Untimely #17 - Aisle of Dogs

Somewhere, somehow, a dog barked. A long, lone, yelping howl at the sliver of moon rising from behind the trees. Then silence. Then another bark. Shorter, crisper, sound dying prematurely in the air, frozen, arrested motion. A hollow where it had been, a vacuum, drawing attention now to its absence. Now the sound of tires on ice, smooth gliding then crunching, crackling, like wet glass slowly fracturing. The wind was very, very cold on her face, but she could not wrap up any more than she already was. Her nose and cheeks smarted but the damp of the air prevented her getting used to it. Each time the wind gusted against her it was awful and shocking and worse than before. She could not believe the misery she was in. And again the dog barked.

This time its bark rang out like a gong and was answered by other barks in the middle distance, staggered as in a round, all ringing out together like a giant gong falling down an immensely long staircase. Like a gong falling down the side of a Mayan pyramid. All of Chichen Itza trembling as the pitch rises higher and higher, faster and faster, until you can feel your teeth coming loose at the gums, the barking now a ragged shriek in a thousand bloody canine throats. In the cacophony a lizard closes its eyes and coughs. Somewhere a dog barks, then eats the lizard.

A dog’s bark shook her from her reverie. Yes, it was mighty cold. She wanted to touch her nose, to see if it was still there, but her hands pinned her arms to her sides. It was quiet again now. From time to time she heard tires on ice, crunching, crackling, gliding smoothly, then nothing. The wind in her ears was notable for its blistering coldness. A moon, a sliver of moon, rose behind the spindly naked branches of the trees. She watched it rise clear then fall behind a cloud. She could no longer feel her face, but still she waited. Somewhere a dog barked.