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The Black Dog
by Richard H. Fay
Tales tell of a dark spectral canine
Roaming the lonely dirt tracks and lanes
That criss-cross the land of Hobwell Heath.
Locals fear the hound's dreadful approach
For its sudden frightful appearance
Presages certain imminent death.A bit too full of tavern spirits,
I set off for home across the moor.
A pale moon peers through a tattered veil,
Bathing the path in an eldritch glow.
Unafraid of creatures of legend,
I whistle a crude tune while I walk.My glib mood turns swiftly to terror
When I hear a deep mournful baying
Carry across the darkened heathland.
Padded footsteps thud close behind me.
I quicken my pace to no avail;
The slavering brute overtakes me.A bristling beast the size of a calf
Stands before me upon the dim path.
Phosphorescent drool drips from its maw
As it growls and bares its long, sharp fangs.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest
As blazing eyes stare into my soul.The snarling fiend lunges for my throat,
But I bolt across the murky moor.
With the fell hound snapping at my heels
I run through thorny brambles and gorse,
Tumble over a low-lying hedge,
And crash headfirst through my own front door.The devil dog's harsh howls fade away
As it lopes back into the rough downs.
I smile broadly at my good fortune,
But then I'm wracked by a crushing pain.
The room whirls as I fall to the floor;
The black hound's portent proves true
Once more.
© Fay, 2007
Richard H. Fay is an author, artist, poet and home school dad who
resides in Upstate New York. He is inspired by history, myth, and
legend, as well as the classics of fantasy, horror and adventure
literature. Some of his work can be seen on-line in the e-zines The
Sword Review, DemonMinds, Aphelion, Haiku Haven, and Fantastic Horror.