Tale #122: The Dogs

There’s a reason I don’t go out there on nights like these.

Listen! You can hear them, can’t you? Streaming down from the hills and out of the woods, running through the streets, the dirty dogs, those mongrel wolves. A great big howling pack of them, chasing the foxes and the sheep, the chickens and rabbits. The cats and the crows. The fearless, the fearful.

And on moonlit nights like tonight, my sister runs with them and they do as she says.

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2020

Tale #121: Between The Hills, Beyond The Waves

The wind blew through the town and across the beach with such ferocity that where it met the sea the waves broke backwards, the spume sparkling in the air as it flew out towards wherever it was the waves themselves were born.

Whenever we left the safety of our houses we chained ourselves to the railings, so even when the wind blew us off our feet we would not be blown out to sea with the spume, would not be sucked beneath the waves, down into the depths, down there, where the mermaids that birthed us still circled and swam, still sighed, still sang.

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2020