Left behind

Mosquito Creek, North Vancouver 2019

Mosquito Creek, North Vancouver 2019

Writing Prompt No. 123

The wild dog snuffled around the legs of the bench.

This wasn’t where he should be. He’d wondered down from the mountain following a scent. But he was young and inexperienced and had lost his way. He didn’t know or remember to check where his family had gone. And now he was alone surrounded by unfamiliar smells.

His nose knocked the the empty water bottle sending it tumbling to the ground. The wild dog jumped back into the shadows of the trees. The bottle rolled along the gravel stopping at the edge of the path. The wild dog reached forward with its nose. A faint smell of something lingered around the rim. He licked it tasting a sweet flavour he hadn’t come across before.

Rays of sunlight cut through the branches catching his eyes. He blinked in the bright low light and turned away. In the distance he heard noises. Voices. He’d heard those before from animals walking on two legs with no discernible tail. He slipped back into the shadows. They won’t see him here. The voices grew louder as did the crunch of gravel under their feet. They passed by so close he could see the colour of their eyes.

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