with
excitement that he could barely control himself. He'd spend hours
sitting in his living room, opening and closing one of his
pocketknives, fantasizing about where he'd cut first. Had to start
with the extremities--fingers and toes. He didn't want a victim to
bleed to death too soon.
Tonight...he just didn't feel like it.
He was enjoying work a lot more these days.
Sure, he'd still quit if he won the lottery, received a surprise
inheritance, or got a higher offer elsewhere, but the day went by
much more quickly now that he interacted with his co-workers in a
friendly manner. His relationship with Liz was going wonderfully.
He was relatively certain that she considered him more of a
"boy-toy" than a "soul mate," but Charlie had never been anybody's
boy-toy before and he liked it.
He didn't need to hunt anymore.
Didn't need to kill anymore.
And so, on this particular March 24th, he
was not going to roam the streets hunting for prey. He was going to
put on the iPod he'd just bought last night, put on the "Walking
Kutter" playlist, take his Boston terrier out for a nice long
stroll, and then go out with his girlfriend.
"This is where I found you," said Charlie,
as Kutter sniffed the bench. "If I hadn't taken you home, you
would've been a dog Popsicle. Kutter the dog-flavored Popsicle.
That's no way to end your life, buddy."
As usual, the park was empty. They really
needed to promote this place better. Charlie unhooked Kutter's
leash and played fetch with a rubber ball for about fifteen
minutes. Then, on one throw, Kutter ran in the opposite direction,
toward the street.
"Wrong way!" Charlie shouted. It wasn't a
particularly busy street, but he could hear a car coming. "Kutter!
Get back here!"
Kutter kept running. Charlie took off after
him.
Charlie could see the car now. A small one,
but Kutter was headed straight for--
The car took a left turn, putting Kutter out
of potential danger.
Charlie saw what Kutter was
running for. A dog on the other side of the street.
" Kutter ! " he shouted. "You stop right now ! "
Kutter stopped, then went into a barking
fit. Charlie hurried over to him and snapped the leash onto his
collar. "Don't ever run off like that again," Charlie said. "You
could've been hit by a car! Do you know how worried I was?"
He glanced across the street again. Now
there were two dogs. Big ones. The one he'd seen first was a big
black dog--a rottweiler, he thought it was called. He thought the
other one might be a pit bull but he wasn't completely sure what
pit bulls looked like, just that they were vicious, mean dogs. And
the two men holding their leashes didn't appear much
friendlier.
"Time to head home," he said. Kutter barked
at the dogs again. Brave but stupid.
"Hey there!" said the first man, waving to
Charlie from across the street. "How's it going?"
Charlie didn't answer. He tugged on Kutter's
leash to draw his attention away from the other dogs and began to
walk down the sidewalk.
"Don't walk away from us!" the man said. "We
just wanna see your dog!"
Charlie kept walking for a few moments, then
stopped. He really didn't want to talk to these guys, but if they
decided to turn their scary dogs loose he could be in a lot of
trouble. He had a knife in his inside jacket pocket, so if they
intended to mug him he'd take them by surprise with a blade to the
face.
Kutter growled as the men and their dogs
approached. Charlie shushed him. They probably wanted nothing more
than to laugh a good laugh about how they had big monster dogs and
he had a silly looking clown-faced dog. Or else they just wanted
directions.
The men walked their dogs across the street.
They were both smiling, but they were some of the least friendly
smiles Charlie had ever seen. He wanted to pick Kutter up to keep
the dog out of harm's way; however, that would prevent him from
using the knife if the men truly did intend to mug him. Though he
wasn't worried about losing money, since he only had seven dollars
in his wallet,
excitement that he could barely control himself. He'd spend hours
sitting in his living room, opening and closing one of his
pocketknives, fantasizing about where he'd cut first. Had to start
with the extremities--fingers and toes. He didn't want a victim to
bleed to death too soon.
Tonight...he just didn't feel like it.
He was enjoying work a lot more these days.
Sure, he'd still quit if he won the lottery, received a surprise
inheritance, or got a higher offer elsewhere, but the day went by
much more quickly now that he interacted with his co-workers in a
friendly manner. His relationship with Liz was going wonderfully.
He was relatively certain that she considered him more of a
"boy-toy" than a "soul mate," but Charlie had never been anybody's
boy-toy before and he liked it.
He didn't need to hunt anymore.
Didn't need to kill anymore.
And so, on this particular March 24th, he
was not going to roam the streets hunting for prey. He was going to
put on the iPod he'd just bought last night, put on the "Walking
Kutter" playlist, take his Boston terrier out for a nice long
stroll, and then go out with his girlfriend.
"This is where I found you," said Charlie,
as Kutter sniffed the bench. "If I hadn't taken you home, you
would've been a dog Popsicle. Kutter the dog-flavored Popsicle.
That's no way to end your life, buddy."
As usual, the park was empty. They really
needed to promote this place better. Charlie unhooked Kutter's
leash and played fetch with a rubber ball for about fifteen
minutes. Then, on one throw, Kutter ran in the opposite direction,
toward the street.
"Wrong way!" Charlie shouted. It wasn't a
particularly busy street, but he could hear a car coming. "Kutter!
Get back here!"
Kutter kept running. Charlie took off after
him.
Charlie could see the car now. A small one,
but Kutter was headed straight for--
The car took a left turn, putting Kutter out
of potential danger.
Charlie saw what Kutter was
running for. A dog on the other side of the street.
" Kutter ! " he shouted. "You stop right now ! "
Kutter stopped, then went into a barking
fit. Charlie hurried over to him and snapped the leash onto his
collar. "Don't ever run off like that again," Charlie said. "You
could've been hit by a car! Do you know how worried I was?"
He glanced across the street again. Now
there were two dogs. Big ones. The one he'd seen first was a big
black dog--a rottweiler, he thought it was called. He thought the
other one might be a pit bull but he wasn't completely sure what
pit bulls looked like, just that they were vicious, mean dogs. And
the two men holding their leashes didn't appear much
friendlier.
"Time to head home," he said. Kutter barked
at the dogs again. Brave but stupid.
"Hey there!" said the first man, waving to
Charlie from across the street. "How's it going?"
Charlie didn't answer. He tugged on Kutter's
leash to draw his attention away from the other dogs and began to
walk down the sidewalk.
"Don't walk away from us!" the man said. "We
just wanna see your dog!"
Charlie kept walking for a few moments, then
stopped. He really didn't want to talk to these guys, but if they
decided to turn their scary dogs loose he could be in a lot of
trouble. He had a knife in his inside jacket pocket, so if they
intended to mug him he'd take them by surprise with a blade to the
face.
Kutter growled as the men and their dogs
approached. Charlie shushed him. They probably wanted nothing more
than to laugh a good laugh about how they had big monster dogs and
he had a silly looking clown-faced dog. Or else they just wanted
directions.
The men walked their dogs across the street.
They were both smiling, but they were some of the least friendly
smiles Charlie had ever seen. He wanted to pick Kutter up to keep
the dog out of harm's way; however, that would prevent him from
using the knife if the men truly did intend to mug him. Though he
wasn't worried about losing money, since he only had seven dollars
in his wallet,
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