Paranoid: Killing my DoG. Short Story .

I woke up at 10 today and I’m bored. He has nothing to do. I have nothing to do. I realise holidays are such a bore. You’re so free you don’t want to do anything. Is it just me?

I know you too have those thoughts. I think i’ll kill my dog. I wonder how’d that go; Wringing the life out of that ball of happiness.

Keeper would never see it coming. He’d just come wagging his tail if i call out to him. Blind faith that. We love that shit don’t we?

Then i’d pin him down. Gently at first, then steadily, then slowly slide a sturdy grip on his neck. I’m sure his tongue would be out and his black eyes penetrating your soul.

So black and so innocent and so full of trust. Blind faith, i love that shit.

But will he know when my friendly grip on his neck turn doubtfully strong?

Will he still trust when it finally becomes abnormally hard to breathe?

Will he doubt?

Will he bark?

Will he cry?

And god forbid will it try to bite me as it gaspses for a drag of empty air?