I eat in a barren little park that is sun-bleached grass, a sandbox, and a rusty swing set enclosed by a chain link fence. The emptiness allows me to eat the salami straight from the wrapper, to rip hunks of bread off with my teeth, and to burp so loud it echoes after washing it all down with the Coke.
At some point I had a dim thought about sharing with the dog, but all she gets is one of the Slim Jims before I am completely consumed by the eating.
When everything is gone save the wrappers, which go back into the bag to throw away, I lie down on the now-dry ground and close my eyes to the scorching sun. My stomach pushes out against my t-shirt. It's a good feeling.
I think about trying to hitch another ride south. I think about moving to somewhere less out in the open, where cops won't see me and my leash-less dog. But it's been so long since I've been full and sleepy and warm, and I can't convince myself to get up.
Even when the dog pushes her nose under my arm and wriggles up close to me. She whuffs out a spicy meat-smelling breath and kisses my cheek with her tongue before closing her eyes. I can feel her heartbeat against my arm.
Our breathing syncs up and slows until I drift into sleep.
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Hitchhikers (Wolf Point #1)
WerewolfEvery time he blacks out, someone dies. Daniel Connors has been on the run since that terrible night three years ago, when he killed three adult men... including his own father. When a dog begins following him on the road, Daniel begins to feel alm...
