by Dave Weaver
When Bobo came down from the hillside
his fur was all covered in blood
we cracked out a hole in the river
washed it off and got back in the truck.
That night he began acting crazy
the cuts on his back full of pus.
We found the beast's tooth in his collar
while daddy was loading the gun.
Next day the argument kicked off
while mother was hanging the clothes
later, he said he was sorry
and she told him "It's only a scratch."
But I woke to the sound of her screaming
and the snarling that couldn't be him
a pawing like Bobo's but different
as I clambered out onto the roof.
I could see the beast moving towards me
through the slats in the wall of the barn
Standing up tall on its hind legs
and sniffing my scent on the wind.
I drove the car straight through the front doors
knocking it out of my way
it was howling in pain in the mirror
and yelling that we could still talk.
A guy at the drugstore suggested
I should get to the hills while I could
as he said it his hands started shaking
and some white stuff came out of his mouth.
The fire's spread all over the town now
I see shadows prowl inside the smoke
but I can't stay up here for much longer
and I really need something to eat
© 2009 Dave Weaver
Dave Weaver is a graphic designer living in St Albans. The
writing bug bit him six years ago returning for regular nibbles since.
He likes football, XTC and Stephen King, and is a member of the Verulam
Writer's Circle. Dave's 'Finding Uncle' short story was published in Hert's University's 'Visions' anthology.
Find more by Dave Weaver in the Author Index.
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