Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Writing Exercise: Part Two

Please feel free to add on to it.

The howling wind in the front yard blew the trees double. Hearing it made them both uneasy. The nervous dog paced the length of the living room and back, whining uncomfortably.

He was sitting in front of the fireplace, keeping watch on any stray sparks as she finished the dinner dishes. The fire was sputtering, sometimes blazing, sometimes blowing down to a hot amber glow. He lifted his right hand as he continued to read the paper, “Come here, pup.” The dog worried over and placed her head on his hand, then whine softly and walk to the foyer again.

“I think we’re in for a rough night,” she said as she carried her book to the hearth and nestled down next to the fire. “There you are on your winter throne.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “I’ve always said that if the end of the world came, they would find your ass right here, in front of the fireplace.”

She rolled her eyes and went back to the book, glancing up slyly at his good-natured face. Eventually the dog came to lie at her feet. Curling her butt as closely as she could to the woman’s feet, she finally rested her head between her paws and began to snooze.

Sometimes, a false sense of security is better than nothing.


Dominic said...

A False Sense of Security happened to be the title of the book she held in her hands. The irony didn't escape her, as she went back to reading it accompanied by the comforting snore of the dog.

Two A.M. She woke up to a loud snort. It was her own. She looked around the room, rubbing her eyes. On the floor was the book that she had been reading. The logs in the fireplace were smoldering, the fire out. She felt a sharp breeze. The window was wide open, its curtains flailing like come hither arms. Her dog was nowhere to be seen, the room feeling emptier without her.

His newspaper rustled from the cold breeze cutting through the window. Its reader was missing, too - but the room didn't feel empty because of lack of his presence. It felt fuller, she admitted in her thoughts.

Feeling the chill, she rushed to the window. Her mouth fell agape as she witnessed an eerie spectacle, a scene actualized from the very book she had been reading: There are under the yellow moonlight, beneath the swaying trees, was her dog dragging with her teeth a disheveled, lifeless form.

She was about to call out to her dog when suddenly, she felt a gentle pat on her shoulder.

Roberta said...

Dom, this is great~
You have added tension, mystery and a sense of calm.

Now if I could just figure out what the dog dragged in, I could continue!