Canine Grounding


It sat on my foot and made me one of his long black hairs instantaneously, not subject to marrowbone or an egg-timer mentality; affection to rent. Affection is a health-scare. Affection is for the innocent.


It drank down my stress with 364 headaches, perhaps 365 ground up in orange aspirin; a silty goodness to derive as Friday came back to me with a real skin and pith, absconded only faintly.


It checked, manning a rubescent concern, the presence I’d left shuddering and warm, looking to note and measure: the print-outline of its form; and even the redcurrant goo strapped onto his loosely dreaded tail, regarding me as I’d have humans do.


I thought you lived in a castle


It wasn’t just the way in which you said you lived on the twelfth floor as if you owned a castle in Deptford,


6


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