Accident
A sunny morning drive
He runs over a dog and doesn’t even flinch. When I ask him if we should go back, he shakes his head. “No worries, mate, let the sleeping dog lie.” I don’t want to argue, only murmur that you’re licensed to call that a sleep if you are a great poet or a bible scholar.
Driving back an hour later we find a sizable crowd at the site. It cannot be good. Getting closer we see the villagers butchering the dog and distributing the meat among themselves. I reflexively cover my eyes. No use; I can tell I’m going to be sick.
He stops the car; I run to the ditch, vomit my breakfast and then dry-heave until I almost black out. When I recover somewhat he puts his hand on my shoulder. “No worries, mate, it’s a man-eat-dog world over here. One’s road kill is another one’s brunch. We’ll be like that, too, just question of time.”
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- A sketch of this article was published in Microfiction Monday Magazine on November 13, 2023,
