It's past midnight, and Jack is passed out drunk on the floor, the dog stretched out beside him.
Jack's wife marvels at the way the bars of moonlight peek through the blinds and land on her skin.
She thinks they look like prison bars, and she wonders if this place is really a cage, or if Jack is the cage.
YOU ARE READING
HOUND
Short Story"People are like hounds, they sniff out your weakness, play with your pain, and will hunt you down until you worship them." WARNING: in some chapters, not all, there is adult content. You've been warned.
