The sky wore the blackening blue like a patch of hurt skin that shifts hues dolorously for the damage that has been so unkind, so unforgiving. The Vigour in the air that so far giggled with those snoozing little kids of hers was as silent and treacherous as the dying sun over some lone and sad desert existing in a forever ennui. The land beneath her paws that had been so appealing all this while had become appaling, for her offsprings were nowhere to be found.
She barely understood the meaning of death, she was not as sentinent as a human being. Her litter of pups that had not even opened their eyes yet had gone to silence just a week ago. Her breasts were bloated with milk, churning and aching to be sucked by those little mouths that were left open.
If only she understood how and why she had to find her little pups lying on the side of the road with that red flowing from their mutilated bodies, she could have felt bereaved at least but alas! All that she understood was that they would not move even after her many futile attempts.
Where had they gone to now? She had been crying on the streets, looking for them, but they were nowhere to be found. She had been feeling wrong all this time, how could it be? Wrong was the only thing she felt, without any definition, without any reference to it, it was just a feeling of ‘wrong’ that she always felt whenever she was wounded. Waiting by their unmoving bodies, waiting for them to wake up, she had fallen asleep by them, and oh! how wrong she was to. For when she opened her eyes they were gone, only the red was there; where had they gone to, abandoning her in that gruesome street? Why would they?
She could not understand what was happening, something so precious to her was vanished and she had no clue to where. Streets were gloomy, people looked at her with pity, she knew that look but she did not want bread from them, she wanted her pups.
Where possibly could they be gone? She had been bawling. Did she understand what sadness is? Did she understand what loss is? Was there any definition of the feelings in her world? All that she felt now was a longing, the ‘wrong’ had grown into ‘longing’ in no time, and it ate at her heart, much like one of those desperate times when she could not get food for days and it ate at her gut, perhaps worse than that.
People looked at her, yet again, she was digging another hole only to find handful of nothing. She had dug so many holes in that empty field, trying to find something desperately, crying loudly after each dig. There was a trail of dirt on the both sides of her face with a condemning desire in her black eyes and a pain in her body whenever she walked. She was unable to understand where she could find her pups again. She left the field once more, to look for them into another alley, milk was dripping from her breasts, she was bawling.
People that looked at her with pity till yet had started to feel irked. A dog crying in the neighborhood was a bad omen to them. It was time some of them aimed a piece of stone at her to hush her away.