The Ninth Archive

A red, ghostly hound lurks above an idling car with its headlights on in the dark woods.


The Black Hound

I idled the car, but left the headlights on. This part of the woods gets way too dark when it rains. And it’s raining now, pretty hard. The warm purr of the engine vibrates under the vinyl seating, while steam and rain unite with the headlights to surround my senses in a fuzzy, white cocoon. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve overstayed my welcome, but I light up another cigarette anyway. Smoke ‘em if you got em, right? I should really get some new schtick.

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