Hi everyone and welcome back to writing prompts on The Broken Quill. Today’s discover writing prompt is “Street”…
Writing Prompt #4 – Street
There was a killer dog that walked my street. It was a “demon” dog; aggressive, angry and looking for someone to bite or kill. Yes, knowing this dog lived on my street was like facing death every single day.
But this “demon” dog wasn’t the real demon. The real demon was its master. And I saw him once, only once though, because he rarely came out of his house. I remember the day so clearly. He was grossly overweight, wearing a dirty, mangy-looking singlet over a pair of filthy pants. He looked like he hadn’t slept or washed in days. And I watched him with the belt he had in his hand. The belt was like any other belt with a huge buckle on one end. And he was searching for his dog, calling out to it. I had never seen the dog like this before – afraid. The dog that I was so scared to face was scared itself.
We had something in common, it seemed.
The man brought the belt down so hard but missed the dog. The dog was hiding under the old truck that took up the entire driveway. The truck was in the same condition as the man; rusted all over, old and tired and uncared for. Everything about this place reeked of decay.
Once, I got close enough to see what the dog looked like. Its body was covered in ugly scars and welts. Huge chunks of its hair had been ripped off exposing the dog’s flesh underneath. This dog was in pain and I could feel that pain. This dog was angry at the world, much like I was. This dog was not a victim. This dog was a survivor.
The dog will forever remain in my memory – or at least the fear I felt whenever I had to walk past it. I had seen the dog attack other children who walked down my street. I was certain one day it would attack me. I even devised a way to avoid the dog because I knew where he would sit and hide and wait. He was sitting just under the truck, in the shade. He was all black, as black as the shadows. So when he emerged, it was as if the shadows were coming to life to attack you.
It was only a dog but that dog represented something. That dog was staying alive only to exact revenge on other humans. That dog wanted to hurt someone the same way it had been hurt by its master.
I don’t know what happened to that dog. And only now, writing this, do I ponder the whereabouts of it. I hope that the dog somehow managed to escape, at least that’s what I think now. Escape or death. Death seemed better than living for this dog. Death would be welcome.
I hope you like my writing prompt exercise for “street”. Let me know in the comments if you have any questions or if you’re doing #postaday or #writing prompt so I can read your work!
Stay safe out there my friends, keep writing and I’ll see you in tomorrow’s post!