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Three Golden Wolves

2023-09-04

It's raining outside and I'm walking into my office. I must have had another drink but I don't remember. I stepped in something warm. Dog shit. He must have had another accident; he's getting old. We both are.

There's an exterior door in my office, next to the server; that door wasn't there before and it's hanging open. God damn it; the dog had wandered outside. I peel off my shit covered left-sock and use it to scoop up a handful from the carpet. Through the new doorway, I step outside.

It's raining and this isn't a familiar place. There's mud everywhere and a distant cityscape downhill, lights vaguely filtering through the rain. I see my dog in an alley across from the door, sniffing around two dumpsters. And past the second dumpster are three golden wolves.

The wolves glow in the darkness, ethereal, painted and abstract against the visceral muck surrounding us. They're large and powerful, with intense eyes that could pierce the soul; they sense our presence but stand uninterested. I step through the cold wet clay towards my dog, feeling the cold water between my toes as my feet sink deeper than I step, but he's wandering closer to the wolves and I need to change the situation.

I peel off my other sock and throw the muddy, shitty mess into the second dumpster. The wolves remain indifferent but the motion distracts my dog and I call him to me. Together we walk back through the door.