(c) Stray [PG]
I am Revolution :: Words :: Stories :: Original Fiction
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(c) Stray [PG]
by rock and/or roll Sat 28 Feb 2009, 6:38 pm
Title: Stray
Author: Myself.
Rating: PG to be safe. There's nothing really bad in it.
Pairing: None.
Summary:Two strays connect.
Drabble. 338 words.
Based on the opening lines of these three songs: On My Own by The Used, Only Happy When It Rains by Garbage and This Protector by The White Stripes.
Stray.
I found her crouched on the pavement.
Cars rushed by in peak hour, sloshing rain water over the gravel streets and the pavements and overlooking the beast as her shabby snout rummaged desperately in a ragged chip box, almost as dilapidated as she. The bright yellow was faded, the dye dripping and running like egg yolk tears as fake and plastic as the food the chain sold. There once was a logo, arching curves forming a letter in bold eye-catching, hunger-mongering red, but the colour was stripped, dull and aged, all vibrancy lost to the oil and dirty water leaking through its cardboard.
She nudged the twisted coloured mess with her under-cared nose, the oil sticking leech-like to its wet surface, stinging, making her mouth yelp as it burnt. And the cars continued to roll by through the harsh pelting drops of rain, ignoring her quiet, distant pleas, blind to the hunched form on the cracked pavement with its creased newspaper pages, yellowed by age and urine. She was just another stray, another run away. The ranger would pick her up soon enough, they thought. It was the pound for her.
She might have howled if she had the energy, the willpower, but her legs crumbled underneath her, forcing her into the rain-soaked open, the cold chill pouring down on her and her pitiful dinner. And that’s where I found her, eyes now closed and webbed with raindrop tears, body all ribs and bones and broken claws and patchy fur. No collar, no tag of any kind.
She shivered when I ran a gloved hand over her protruding spine, my warm touch somehow colder and more threatening than the water bullets firing against her chilled body. But two torn ears perked up with an enormous struggle against her frail self, when the sound of a zipper being torn apart reached them...And her nose twitched like a baby rabbit’s as the smell of intact and almost fresh food hit the icy air.
Man’s best friend became my only companion.
Author: Myself.
Rating: PG to be safe. There's nothing really bad in it.
Pairing: None.
Summary:Two strays connect.
Drabble. 338 words.
Based on the opening lines of these three songs: On My Own by The Used, Only Happy When It Rains by Garbage and This Protector by The White Stripes.
Stray.
I found her crouched on the pavement.
Cars rushed by in peak hour, sloshing rain water over the gravel streets and the pavements and overlooking the beast as her shabby snout rummaged desperately in a ragged chip box, almost as dilapidated as she. The bright yellow was faded, the dye dripping and running like egg yolk tears as fake and plastic as the food the chain sold. There once was a logo, arching curves forming a letter in bold eye-catching, hunger-mongering red, but the colour was stripped, dull and aged, all vibrancy lost to the oil and dirty water leaking through its cardboard.
She nudged the twisted coloured mess with her under-cared nose, the oil sticking leech-like to its wet surface, stinging, making her mouth yelp as it burnt. And the cars continued to roll by through the harsh pelting drops of rain, ignoring her quiet, distant pleas, blind to the hunched form on the cracked pavement with its creased newspaper pages, yellowed by age and urine. She was just another stray, another run away. The ranger would pick her up soon enough, they thought. It was the pound for her.
She might have howled if she had the energy, the willpower, but her legs crumbled underneath her, forcing her into the rain-soaked open, the cold chill pouring down on her and her pitiful dinner. And that’s where I found her, eyes now closed and webbed with raindrop tears, body all ribs and bones and broken claws and patchy fur. No collar, no tag of any kind.
She shivered when I ran a gloved hand over her protruding spine, my warm touch somehow colder and more threatening than the water bullets firing against her chilled body. But two torn ears perked up with an enormous struggle against her frail self, when the sound of a zipper being torn apart reached them...And her nose twitched like a baby rabbit’s as the smell of intact and almost fresh food hit the icy air.
Man’s best friend became my only companion.
Last edited by Sheepy on Sat 28 Feb 2009, 7:12 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : checked:sheep)
rock and/or roll- Literary Mentor
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Number of posts : 860
Age : 33
Location : in the 21st century.
I am Revolution :: Words :: Stories :: Original Fiction
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