Wolves deny Evolution, relation to Dogs. (Introducing an Observer)

He walked down the sidewalk, it was an early summer slow blue night. A big hump of dirt lay to his right and he enjoyed his little mountains, and the smell of chlorine from the pools all around. The hum of crickets and water pumps. He could have sworn he heard the sound of children yelling in the distance, playing too late, denying the will of the sunset. There was a long brown wooden fence as tall as a man and a chain rattling off behind it. The barking from the German Shepard startled him, though he half expected it. "I assume you havent eaten in quite a few days," he muttered quietly to the viciously barking dog that had parked itself on the opposite side of the fence. "Youre gonna die you know." He paced around and shook his head trying to think of what to do and before walking away, crouched down on his haunches to see eye to eye with the dog. Each shriek was in close enough proximity to take him off guard every time but he wanted to make sure he felt the weight of it, to take it in, for the sake of fairness.

He walked further down the block, suddenly feeling aimless and wanting of something to do. It was something he hadnt felt in a while and he didnt want to get anxious this early in the game. How early in the game was this exactly anyway? He could still hear the dog barking behind him in the distance.

Before him stood a house with the automatic yard lights on. The front door was locked. He took a little path to the side of the house, opened a little gate and found a set of cement stairs that led to a basement doorway. To his absolute delight there was a key under the doormat. Its the little victories, really. It was dark and musky in the basement. There was a pool table and he felt obligated to turn on every light. He thumbed through a box of records, found something mildly appealing and dropped the flimsy needle to the spinning disc. It was something. He plopped down on an uncomfortable chair with wooden arms and an orange afghan draped over it with a useless little round pillow. He listened to records for a few hours and fell asleep in the chair with the bright yellow basement lights red from the inside of his eyelids.

He woke up in the morning shocked at the complete silence and the strange surroundings. He stood up and walked over to the round drain gate in the cement floor and tried to aim his piss in the hole without it getting everywhere and thought he'd try to take a look upstairs. There was the front door. The white carpet was well groomed, a recliner faced the TV and the remotes were still lined up perfectly. There were more stairs and a little girls room on the left where he took a moment to sit on the bed. The sun left a little mark on the white doily dressing over a window bench. He tilted his head to crack his neck and stared blankly at the mirror over the desk with all kinds of gaudy little girl things glued to it before grabbing his hat and deciding it was his time to make an exit. He stood on the landing and there were two closed doors left he hadnt checked yet. Choosing the door at his left, he leaned to the wall parallel with the master room and gave the door a slow push near the hinges. Their faces were cold and white, dutifully tucked in like little soldiers. There wasnt a whole lot to say, really. He pulled the door shut and made his way down the stairs.

The kitchen was dark but clean. He opened the refrigerator door and opened a jar of pickles pulling out a long one. Chewing on it he spied some pork chops under plastic wrap and grabbed the whole plate. Leaving out the front door it was a very bright, hot day. He crossed into the street to walk the pavement on the other side with his cowboy hat cocked down and made his way down the side walk with the wrapped plate on his forearm like a school book. He stopped at a tall brown fence and made a high pitched whistle which was answered by a weak whine on the other side. He took a bite of pork chop. "You know youre gonna die you stupid dog." He tossed the pork chop over the fence and slid the plate to drop on the other side.

"I'll be back," he smiled, and shaking his head made on a little further down the road.

Outside the elementary school is a young girl selling candy. "Make an offering for the coming of the Autarch?" I decline. Round red candies rolled up in a red wrapper. "Your body is an instrument."