My Little Electric Puppy

I stand against the southern wall of my house, a foot from the safety of the interior. The bricks are not very comfortable on my back but I still cling to the wall. The winds sweep everything including the torrents of rain. Out of a moving downed wire five feet from me. sparks fly and little imps of blue and white emerge. They run for my house, knowing that is the way their river flows. A desperate pilgrimage ensues, little creatures dying in sizzles, steam and screams just to remind you that they are alive.

I find myself the next morning with my mind less addled. The hallucinogens are dying, leaving me a foggy consciousness; sober but bound to limited capabilities. I tie my bathrobe together hiding my sallow briefs. Inside my robe’s depths, I grope for my keys. Among the debris, I find a battery. It’s glowing blue and white and I swear it’s whimpering.

Luckily, it’s a rechargeable. I think I’m going to call him Sparky.

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