By Dan McNeil
He padded through the street, remembering it as a canyon, shadowed sunless by the tall buildings on either side. Now there was only rubble, and a new red light teased his eyes. Silent and wonderful, the day stretched ahead of him, full of adventurous possibilities. Familiar smells had been replaced with the mixed scent of burnt metal, plastics, concrete and meat. He sidestepped a corpse, slam packed with shards of glass from a destroyed building. It seemed to be female, although he couldnt be sure. Feeling hungry, he scrabbled at the corpse, and it relinquished some dried scraps of flesh, which he washed down with saliva. Swallowing gratefully, he stared momentarily into the swollen red disc of the sun, expanding inexorably towards a final embrace with the ruined vestiges of mankind. Then, its dim mind wandering, the dog whistled a song of delight and headed towards the city zoo.
Copyright David McAlinden (Dan McNeil) © 2002.