By Deanna Salser
The dog whines as he lifts his head. He recognizes the caustic scent invading his nostrils, emanating pungently from the sleeping human. He knows he should go to her, wake her, so she can get her bottle and swallow the bit that makes it stop, but he’s too weak.
He shakily sets his head back down on his paws, whining under his breath as he glances at the figure in the corner. He’s not sure if the hooded one is there for him or for her, but either way, he doesn’t like it. The woman in the bed begins to convulse
You elicit sorrow, pain, fear and empathy in such a small space. You work reaches beyond words in a moment. The experience circles back, lingering like echoes of sorrow.
Thank you honey! That was awesome!
Very powerful. Well written.
Thank you so much! You don’t know what that means to me.
Scary and sad. An excellent 101.
Thank you!
Good job. You’ve created an emotional death-bed scene, told through the eyes of a faithful dog (old and weak). You show us “in the corner” . . . “the hooded one,” giving the story chilling significance. You’ve done this so well, I wished you had surprised us rather than including “The Reaper” in the title. Nicely done.