The Pack
“Bradley saw the puff of her breath in the cold air. She didn’t wake herself, but Victor momentarily opened an eye and squinted at her. Hunger raised the long black wedge of his head, sniffed the air, glanced at Bradley and, assured all was well, returned it to the pile of rags they slept on.
Bradley was already awake. He pushed the blanket from him and eased himself from under Hunger’s weight. The black dog liked to sleep so close to him, often his paws or his belly almost pinned Bradley to the... ground.
The first cold light of day angled in the slats of the broken windows. One corner of the basement looked precious and warm—a box of old switches, plugs and circuits. Above it, an old shopping basket hung from the ceiling.
From his nest, Victor watched him. Beneath his blanket, his body began to coil and the muscles to tense, as his stomach thought for him. What put the glare in his eyes this morning more than another was not a question that concerned him. The sealed lips of the scars he carried on his arms and legs had been speaking to him again.MoreLess
Bradley was already awake. He pushed the blanket from him and eased himself from under Hunger’s weight. The black dog liked to sleep so close to him, often his paws or his belly almost pinned Bradley to the... ground.
The first cold light of day angled in the slats of the broken windows. One corner of the basement looked precious and warm—a box of old switches, plugs and circuits. Above it, an old shopping basket hung from the ceiling.
From his nest, Victor watched him. Beneath his blanket, his body began to coil and the muscles to tense, as his stomach thought for him. What put the glare in his eyes this morning more than another was not a question that concerned him. The sealed lips of the scars he carried on his arms and legs had been speaking to him again.MoreLess
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