Bowie Greene watched the small smooth-skinned creature slither behind the rock formation like a furtive whisper. Despite the arid conditions, the area was strikingly fertile. Low-lying gorse edged the rough mountain paths, rising almost to touch the self-seeded wild flowers spilling from crevices. Still hunkered after checking his boot laces,
The stony path zigzagged upwards for a hundred yards before changing its gradient. Running his hand around his neck to wipe away a gathering of sweat,
Gripping an arching slab,
It was a Wednesday when it happened,
He remembered shrugging off the discomfort in his arm, concentrating his mind on his wife. She had been fraught for weeks over the shop; it was only fair to give her more of his time. He and
The final blow came shortly afterwards, half way to Ugly, wedged in a crevice where he’d paused to adjust his thinking. Should he go back or carry on? How much more would
The rescue team found him. Surgeons saved his leg and treated his heart condition. They said he was a lucky man.
The route now was straightforward.
Unexpectedly nervous, sensing something was close by, he tightened his grip on the gun. Shivered, yet there was sweat on his face. Slowly, he turned. Saw the dog. It was like no dog
After taking a batch of photographs,
When it came the rain was like a deluge, stinging
The dog reappeared and stayed in front of him. His coat was like a beacon in the growing murk.
‘It’s okay, Blonde,’ said
The weather worsened. Rain sliced through the air, the wind driving it full force.
The dog eased himself onto all fours, growled twice, inclining his great head as if indicating that Bowie should follow.
Rounding the projection, he suddenly stopped. In front of him was the huge mouth of a cave. The dog sat at one side of the entrance like a guard dog. Ignoring the attacking rain,
It was a typical cave, small and dry, enough room for
The noise of the rock fall was colossal, vibrations so fierce
The dog nudged his head under
They sat there, man and dog, waiting for conditions to steady. The rain was abating and
Looking out, seeing the blue sky
The dog wagged his short tail, moved to join
Realising he should follow,
As he trudged behind Blonde,
‘Hey, Buddy,’ ‘he called. ‘You’re not God are you?
But the animal had vanished, seemingly into thin air.