Preview of current novel in progress! THE TRUE STORY… of the Legend of Higley Flow Prologue Today started out like most with one thing leading to the next. On a deserted inland beach in upstate New York. An animated black face pug, whose fawn coat would have seemed much more appropriate on a different body was rapidly digging a hole. A mix of hard dirt and damp sand flew into every direction. Her tongue, which perpetually dangled an inch below it’s muzzle, hung loosely like a small garden trowel found on any garage peg board. The pug, whose tail had uncurled, was concentrating her efforts in one particular spot along the shoreline. “No Ruby!” yelled its owner as she raced toward the dog. Undaunted, the pug continued digging, oblivious to both its surroundings and her master’s voice. When the owner drew nearer she shouted once more…“I SAID NO RUBY!” The woman knelt beside the animal and in one fluid motion quickly connected the dog’s expandable leash; snapping the tight metal closure onto a small shiny harness ring. The young lady, who was about twenty-five years old, stood and without hesitation angled her foot, using the hiking boot as a tool, refilling the hole dug by her dog. Once finished she reached into her backpack and grabbed a bottle of cold water, taking a long satisfying drink. “Ahhhhhh,” she sighed…even as unnoticed microbes bonded to both her boot and Ruby’s paws. When walking away, the pug struggled mightily against the taut leash, whining and rearing on its haunches trying to see over her shoulder to where the unusual smell lived. After ten minutes of being tugged along by her master, a chattering squirrel, precariously supported by swaying branches, deferred the dog’s attention. For the moment, at least, she forgot all about her digging. Ruby loved the surrounding woods and the sights and smells of those who called the Flow home. One possible exception was a not so friendly skunk who once victimized the pug with it’s spray. Master and dog paused by the frog pond to acknowledge Big Verde, the ageless bullfrog, who was sitting on it’s favorite rock with nary a care in the world. Ruby barked hello, before the woman tugged the leash once more, stepping up their pace and heading for a part of the Flow neither owner nor pug had ever visited before. Ruby’s long leash allowed her to cover large expanses of ground without losing contact with her master. She was as free as a bird and her ears flapped as she grunted contentedly while running up one hillside then down the next. As the woods became denser, an ominous scent overwhelmed the light mist which moistened the cool crisp air. Ruby’s flat nose meandered curiously along the ground scrutinizing everything within her path as if finally about to make pooh. She recognized the unpleasant odor and as it became stronger and more prevalent it completely dominated her curiosity, anthropomorphically speaking, of course. Ruby’s leash had been severed, though a small remnant has dangled from her harness, for at least twenty-five minutes. Her master was missing and it seemed as though the young woman had vanished totally. Earlier that morning, while walking the shoreline, this same scent, reeking vileness and death caused the pug’s frenzied digging. Ruby’s underbelly nearly touched the ground while she slowly pursued her own tail in ever tightening circles before finally stopping. Her sad bulbous brown eyes nervously lifted skyward and suddenly, without so much as a whimper, Ruby ceased being.
Posted on: Tue, 20 Aug 2013 04:06:25 +0000
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