short stories – Page 4 – Gnawing the Bone

The Poop Cult

Published on March 31, 2013June 16, 2014 by Raud Kennedy15 Comments

The two former strays stood at the edge of the dog park away from the other dogs. Recently adopted together, they were easing into a comfortable life of leisure. Both had a fair amount of border collie in them but one’s fur was rust and the other’s a blue merle. The rust just finished pooping a few paces away and steam rose from it in the morning chill. The man who had adopted them broke away from his friends and started across the sparse grass toward his two dogs, baggy in hand.

The rust walked over to the blue merle and bumped him with his hip, his gaze on their approaching two-legger. “Now watch him closely. He does this every time. Like one of those dogs in the kennel who’s caught the tail chasing crazies, he carefully picks up the poop in a baggy, ties it nice and tight like he doesn’t want to lose any, and carries it away. It’s some sort of obsession.” Continue reading “The Poop Cult” →

Nosy

Published on March 17, 2013December 24, 2013 by Raud Kennedy5 Comments

Holly was sitting on her bed after school texting her BFF Monica. “Calculus sucks.” She was math smart, a freshman in a class for juniors.

Ping, Monica texted back. “But the Brian is in your class.”

Both girls had mad text skills. “He’s so into himself and his friends he might as well be gay.”

Ping. “Hurt because he didn’t notice you in your new red dress?”

Yes, how could she not be, Holly thought. She liked her new dress and thought everyone else would too, especially the Brian since it was pretty tight fitting, so tight fitting that she thought her mom or dad was going to say something that morning about how high school freshmen shouldn’t wear such tight fitting dresses to school and tell her to go change her clothes. But neither said anything, not even raised an eyebrow. They were too in a rush to get hot coffee down their throats and be off to work. Parents, what are they good for? Continue reading “Nosy” →

You Can Be Whatever You Want to Be

Published on February 25, 2013January 29, 2016 by Raud Kennedy8 Comments

I was napping underneath Tina’s dangling feet—she was the smallest of my two-legger family—while she sat on the old red leather couch between her dad and granddad. Every now and then she brushed her toes against the fur on the top of my head. It woke me with a tickle, but I didn’t mind. Tina was my favorite being in the whole world and could do nothing that would bother me. I just lay there dozing and listening to what the old men had to say. Continue reading “You Can Be Whatever You Want to Be” →

Tiny

Published on February 13, 2013January 20, 2014 by Raud Kennedy2 Comments

Brad went on a lot of walks, one in the morning, one at lunch, and another after dinner. Unlike most people, who kept a steady pace when they walked, slowing occasionally to admire a particularly pretty flower, or to peek on their neighbors when some activity in a lighted window drew their attention, Brad would come to a complete stop and fidget in place without looking at anything in particular, then walk another half block and fidget some more. Whenever Brad encountered his neighbors next door out walking their two golden retrievers, he’d cross the street and get as much distance on the dogs as he could. His neighbors reassured him that their dogs were friendly, but Brad still kept his distance. They thought it sad that a middle-aged man was afraid of dogs when they loved theirs so much. Continue reading “Tiny” →

Fleegle Votes for Pizza

Published on February 7, 2013May 26, 2014 by Raud Kennedy4 Comments

It’s that first whiff that hits you hardest. Like dunking your snout in a puddle of snow-melt when chasing down a tennis ball, you’re overwhelmed with scent information. The first sniff of my two-legger told me she was an adult female, on a really boring diet of too much yogurt, too many carrots and bananas, and far too little pizza. My previous two-legger had been a big fan of pizza. Emphasis on big. Continue reading “Fleegle Votes for Pizza” →

The Rabbit Hole

Published on January 24, 2013February 28, 2014 by Raud Kennedy7 Comments

Echo was sitting in her studio apartment, polishing her brand new red Doc Martens in preparation for a night out with her friends, when she saw a dark shadowy form of an animal crossing the room on the other side of her coffee table. It looked like a black dog, except that it lacked detail and definition. If her hair weren’t already glued into a Mohawk with half a can of super-hold hair spray, it would have been standing on end from the tingling sensation she felt working its way up her neck.

The shadowy form stopped and seemed to turn and stare at her, then shake its head like dogs do. Echo could actually see the moving shadow of dog ears flapping about the side of its head, but it was all done silently. Was it a ghost? She thought ghosts were supposed to be white puffs of smoke, and she’d heard of shadow people on late-night paranormal radio, but not shadow dogs. On the same show she’d heard about the multiverse theory of the universe. which is that of a bubble bath where each bubble is a universe and there are an uncountable number of universes, some so different from our own that they might have their own laws of physics, others so similar that all the planets might be identical and the sole difference is an alternate history on the third planet from our sun. Sometimes bubbles overlap and air and soap pass from one bubble to the next, and so it is with the multiverse. Either way it was freaking her out staring at her like that, so she took the freshly polished boot in her hand and tossed it at it, hitting it square on. But instead of the boot passing through it, making it disappear like she thought it would, it caught the boot in its mouth, turned and skedaddled. Continue reading “The Rabbit Hole” →