A Random Thought at Three in the Morning.

Random thoughts on the opening chapter of a new novel. It never materialised, but I did find a home for elements of this piece.

Ragged strips of cloud fish-tailed across the sky as the breeze freshened. A scruffy unkempt dog with an irrational hint of exotic parentage about the way he held his head high as people passed by, tugged gently on the length of frayed rope that linked him and his master. The dog’s owner slumbered against the wall of the video shop that was his chosen pitch, the small pile of coins at his feet evidently not yet sufficient for another can of Special Brew. 

Further along, a young man unfurled a dirty sleeping bag and shook out the detritus of a night spent in the partial shelter of a shop doorway. His etiolated complexion resembled sun-bleached putty while the clothes he was wearing had clearly been originally purchased for a much larger person. 

The homeless man stirred and favoured the youth with a volley of curses before sinking back against the wall, dislodging a plastic cider bottle which rolled across the pavement and lodged against a child’s bootee in the rain-filled gutter. The scent of diesel fumes mingling with the aroma of decaying food spilling over from the neck of a black bin liner was heavy in the damp air, but neither the dog nor his owner appeared concerned by such trifles.

The young man had gathered together his meagre possessions and moved away leaving the street momentarily empty when the dog growled deep in his throat. Hackles raised, he scented the air, head perfectly still and eyes fixed on the narrow alley running between the twin rows of shops. 

A figure moved slowly from the shadows and the dog settled down on the pavement, ears flat against his skull, growling softly. A young girl, slim and with a distinct lightness about her step, slipped from the shadows. Her legs were thinner than the excuses of a serial adulterer and a bruise stood out like the damaged skin of a windfall apple on the pale surface of her left cheek. The dog whimpered softly as the girl glanced in his direction, but she gave the animal and its owner no more than a cursory glance. The girl wiped her hands on a square of white material, a man’s handkerchief perhaps, and dropped the cloth at her feet. 

After she had moved out of sight, the dog slipped away from his dozing companion and moved cautiously towards the mouth of the alley. Tail held low and belly snaking close to the ground; he paused at the discarded strip of cloth, whimpering as the smell of fresh blood overpowered the last vestiges of his courage and fled back to the safety of the video shop doorway.