"The night sky is a beautiful thing, isnt it?", Mark's mother would tell him as she rocked him to sleep in her arms. He missed his mother. He missed a lot of things.
Atleast he still had the night sky. It was important to him, sometimes he wondered if it was the only reason he found strength in this strange new world.
He would count the stars in the sky, as he lay his head on a mound of squirming fur. When the Dogscape was new to him, he would find himself puking violently as he felt the convulsions and breathing of the ground beneath him, but now it didnt bother him. Atleast, not as much.
He wondered what stars were made of. They were so bright and foreign, he wondered if maybe the Dogscape was there too. He could hardly imagine anything else any more and he had few memories of a time before the Dogscape. He stared up at the moon, a large eye stared back seemingly empty of thought.
He wondered so many things that he may never find an answer too. Like what he looked like. His mother and father used to tell him of something called a mirror, a contraption that allowed someone to look at themselves. Sometimes he would walk to the edge of a milk stream, and try to stare deep into it to see a reflection, but he could never find it.
He was about to lull to sleep, when a horrifying noise like the cacophony of hundreds of dogs howling grotesquely in pain made him nearly swallow his heart.
The mutt found him.
YOU ARE READING
Dogscape: Stories of survival and death
RandomWARNING: SOME READERS MAY FIND THE CONTENT DISTURBING, READING WITH DISCRESSION IS ADVISED. I DID NOT CREATE THE DOGSCAPE, IT IS OWNED BY THE COMMUNITY. Mark Thal was only 12 years old when it happened, atleast he thinks he was. Time has no meaning...
