Look

A short story

“John"

The word didn’t register at first. He was still too annoyed. Shifting the handle of the lead to his other hand, he squeezed the bridge of his nose and ran his thumb and forefinger under his eyes.

It was the pancakes. Those stupid mini pancakes. So, he had put the packet in the dishwasher instead of the cupboard. It didn’t matter. He was just tired and hadn’t realised. Why did he eat those tiny things anyway? Pancakes are meant to be big, round and fluffy. Not like a, like a …..

“John”

He finally looked up from his reverie, embarrassed at not giving a response straight away. There was an etiquette on the walk that he had learned over the last seven years. If a fellow dog walker said hello, even if you had no clue who they were, you had to respond in kind. It was the unwritten rule.

It was a nice sunny morning and lots of other people were out and about. All moving at a brisk pace with their pets close to heel, but none of them were looking his way.

John frowned, turned around and slowly rubbed his head. Must have just imagined it. The fog started to drift across his thoughts again, but he took a deep breath and it cleared.

“Let’s go boy”

It was then he realised Rocky was sitting on the grass at the side of the road and staring at him. Rocky was a black lab with white spots on his paws. Grey stubble was beginning to fleck his chin. His soft chocolate eyes full of kindness.

“What’s up b …” he started to say.

“John”

Low, rumbling and patient. Rocky blinked slowly.

Stunned, John took a stumbling step back. His mouth hung slackly open in a shocked grin as he shook his head side to side.

“Everything alright, John?”

Another voice. One he recognised . It was Carl who was walking his small golden cockapoo, Buster.

He gathered himself and was about to respond when he noticed Buster was also sitting looking directly at him.

Then the quiet. No cars. No birds. No wind. Not even the odd bark or clack of nails on the pavement.

He turned his head on creaking tendons and noticed all the dogs were the same. All sitting. All staring.

Their owners, Carl included, were looking confused and trying to pull on their leads, but none of them moved.

“Look,” Rocky said. John glanced down at him in fear, which soon became genuine terror, as all the other dogs took up the word in a low chant.

“Look”

“Look”

“Look”

“Look”

He spun around trying to find a way out of this nightmare.

It was then he saw. Past the roundabout where the back road opened onto fields, something was happening. He couldn’t understand at first. Was it a cloud of dust or rain or ….?

That’s when his scrambling mind realised the horror. The land was being consumed. Trees uprooted, torn to splinters and thrown into the air as lightning flashed down through churning, blackened skies. The earth itself torn asunder, houses ripped apart into whirlwinds of shattered stone and scattered to the void. It was coming closer. A wave of devastation creeping towards him. All in complete silence.

In utter incomprehension he looked back down at Rocky as the dog growled.

“Run.”