Being Watched, I Turn

being watched, I turn
and lock eyes with the beast

colourless tufts of fur
surround its giant feet
padded in the dirt and grass
pointed towards me

it has me in its sights
baring teeth
sniffs my sweat
breathes my fear
pink pupils hit
the back of my brain

my breath is short and sharp

it lunges
I brace myself
impact is a certainty

“Woof,” it says
then smiles
and holds me

white doggy

– Scott Sandwich

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