The open branch reveals a creature speedy as a sailfish, cunning as a crow, and furtive as a flea.
My legs must chase it, my teeth must chomp it.
When it springs down, I will finally end this mystic creature’s reign.
But the human says, “Leave the squirrel alone.”
Humans…
Ethan Chen is a 13-year-old 7th grader that loves to read. He spends his free time either buried in a book or with his (sometimes annoying) little brother.
I was standing by his corpse. Sure it was Harry. Although the face was disfigured, I could feel the cinnamon in my nostrils. Only he smelled that way. I couldn’t contain my sorrow and began to bark.
“What are you barking at, Duffy?” Harry said, his shadow approaching me.
Tanay is a freelancer and a business owner from India. He loves to write whenever he finds the time. His latest poetry collection ‘sparrow on the bark’ is out on Amazon, in paperback and on kindle.
In his dreams he can see. He’s darting across the lawn after the sassy Shih Tzu in a pink pinafore. His paws thrash the air; he twitches and whines; he’s just about caught up with her now.
His person wouldn’t dare disturb his reverie now, would she? He can see!
Susan Israel is the author of two crime novels, Over My Live Body and Student Bodies (The Story Plant) Her short fiction has recently been published in Dark Winter Literary Magazine, JAKE and MacQueen’s Quinterly. She lives in Connecticut with her dog.
I was resting in the park
when he came over.
Wary of strays,
I tried to shoo him away.
He edged nearer
asking for a rub and then
started showing off.
He galloped on his three legs
Danced with the leaves
I picked up my crutches
And started following him.
Beatrice Rao likes observing the stray dogs in Mumbai and listening to their stories.
An ancestral memory of the pack around her, inhaling the musky scent of prey, barking their excitement, eager for the chase.
Ahead, a Deer leaping, crashing through Gorse. In the distance, her name being shouted by an anxious owner.
Sandy’s pet Chihuahua Tiddles has, once again, returned to the wild.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland, with his partner Hilary, their daughter Catherine and Peggy, a Border Collie who frequently hears the call of the wild.
When we first met
Your wide eyes met mine
And we entwined
Two vines, growing together
Your paws, polar-bear white
Immense, far-north:
Your spirit wandering
You left when deep winter set in
Before spring took her first breath
You left on a sunny day, your spirit drenched in sunshine:
Cloudless.
Katherine Darlington has articles in many publications including poetry anthologies and literary journals. She also has several published novels. This story was written in memory of her Anatolian cross, Zoey. See more of her work at katherinedarlington.com.
Homeless, he roamed the streets aimlessly, each day a looming uncertainty.
Kindness sought from strangers was elusive until a chance meeting outside a laundromat. Finally: someone who saw beyond his very rough edges.
These days, “Ben” lives cozily, his tail beating a joyous rhythm whenever his new Dad is near.
Lisa Chambers is a Texas girl and writer who loves happy endings.
My dog waits at the door
Outside he’s in his element
His charismatic smile
A beacon
For everyone to greet him
He thrives on affection
Times have changed
His disappointed eyes look back
For an explanation
There is no affection from six feet?
How surreal
The virus
And its implications
After 42 years of working with industrial computers, robots, and automation, Patrick Yu has retired. While not ideal times, he looks forward to his many hobbies, one of which is writing.
Revenge kept Miss Felpham alive. As she outlived the rivals and tormentors of her youth, she took pleasure in walking her terrier among their graves. It had taken some training, but the dog would now do its business on command.
Each morning, she took her time picking the day’s spot.
James is a writer from Brighton, and is currently working on a book of stories about the South Downs Way.
Life is about winning the prize. He thinks nothing can stop him but always ends up back where he started. Get after it again. Success requires dogged determination, and he has it aplenty.
Again he attains the prize. Again it’s tossed away.
Never give up. Never.
Squeak squeak. “Fetch, Boy.”
David Henson and his wife reside in Peoria, Illinois. His work has has appeared in numerous print and online journals. His website is writings217.wordpress.com. Follow him on Twitter at @annalou8.