Tom dinning
Registrant*
Hello, Each and every one of you.
I had a dream. A re-occurring one.
I am a dog, a hound, lean and hungry.
I return to the same place each day anticipating the carcass of anything.
Today is my lucky day. There is blood on the bitumen.
I sniff inquisitively. The odour is familiar.
I look long and hard at the scraps of fur. I know the colour, the texture.
I look at the torn ear and the worn pads. Years of fighting before its death.
It's me. I am looking at my own remains, flattened by the traffic that has passed this way.
I look up. A truck appears at the crossroad.
It speeds at me, ignoring my presence. I hear the breaks.
I wake.
I must remember to get fuel for the car.
Tom