From a series of short form fictions taking inspiration from collage
It all started yesterday, when I took Buckley out for his regular early evening walk. Despite the squally wind churning the mist around, we were enjoying ourselves – as we always do. Buckley is a lovely little fella, a real good boy.
Everything seemed just fine and we were happy, until…
Who were those characters up ahead of us? They were pointing in our direction and clues provided by their general body language, indicated a considerable degree of consternation – or at least some sort of collective uneasiness.
For several moments, I felt taken over by a disorientation similar to what I’ve experienced in my dreams sometimes, when I find myself simply unable to make any sense out of the situation no matter how hard I try. Were they calling to me – or talking amongst themselves? Were they actually scared of Buckley and I?
“Come on Buckley,” I said to my furry companion, “we’ve not done anything wrong, nothing to warrant an intervention of any kind – not from a group of utter strangers.” Buckley sneezed and shook his head. Then, looking up at me, he beamed a cheery expression. Immediately, I felt encouraged and broke into a confident stride.