I see the pale hound lollop across the wasted sands and know he comes for me. His jaw is lack and drool trails his sagging head. Knotted muscles bunch on his shoulders beneath a velvet pelt as they drag his legs across the heat. The sight of him is pathetic. Yet as his grunts and snuffles grow closer there is only fear left to enclose my heart.
Paddy Dobson
25th April 2021