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Forms Unlooked For…an excerpt

March 28, 2013

A tentative, slimed touch at my neck and I was back again, frozen in my chair in my room lighted only by the television’s bleating glare and unable to move, the night having summoned weight and pressing me down, a dead leaf in a collector’s album, and I heard something, it: panted respiration, the click of nails on linoleum, air panicked by movement brushing my skin;
from the eye’s corner a darkness of greater mass in my dimly flickering cell.
Then a silhouette flashing in the glare of car headlights through the window and the room grayed as my monocular vision cleared, but still a blurred, gasping form wandering the room, seeming to nose the corners, then nuzzling at the door and I saw we were tethered, a long, snaking connection that it dragged
rasping along the floor, each movement tugging at me, snagging where it joined me at my belly.
I surged against the nothing that pinned me, heaved with every muscle I had left until I seized into convulsions.
My ears snapped as if I’d fallen from altitude or leapt up from a great depth and I felt a lacerated tearing in my belly, a twitching agony as I realized I’d torn myself not just out of the chair, but away from the beast; our leash was severed and it, without another look, slipped out the door.  The beast moved so quickly that it’s phantom image seemed to hang where it had been, a trick of my eye refusing to believe it was already gone.
The floor hit me before I really understood I was out of my chair, me crashing flat but scrambling, somehow, a scurry of limbs and stumps, atop my one leg and was hopping after the departed.  My first look at my baby came as I leeched onto the landing’s iron railing and looked down, itself standing in an arced rictis, pissing and looking back up at me.
A shabby creature, doglike in the glare of Leonard’s security lighting with ragged khaki fur falling in clumps from raw, naked patches of mange, a long stiletto snout topped by blue eyes round as bullet holes, bottomed by a maggot white
nose, high flapped ears so thin the light shone pinkly through them.
A stilt-legged and thin-necked thing with a lank purplish
penis and outstanding ribs.
It, what, growled at me?  Not a growl really but more a mocking moan, a sneering mewl – and bared its teeth.  Again not threatening, not a snarl but a grimaced grin and it cocked its head, floppy ears collapsing around its expression and pissed without lifting its leg, only standing as stiffly as a man in orgasm, its eyes narrowed in pleasure, the it woofed at me and left.
I didn’t see it go, just realized it was gone as I was remembering the look on the creature’s – for want of better, I’ll say face.
I’ve seen that look before.  It’s what a man’s face becomes when you’ve alligator clipped his testicles to a field generator and gave the handles a twirl.

From my book Forms Unlooked For published by Smashwords

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