“Fine, I’ll do it then,” said Shep. “If this means saving the Space Janitor (089), then there are no other options,”.
“That’s the spirit. Now come on, pucker up. You still remember how to bark?” asked Spenglactic.
“Please, none of your nonsense alright? It’s been a long first quarter. I remember, OK?” Shep snapped at Spenglactic.
“There we go, I even hear some of your snarl there. You’re almost there. Now come on and be a good dog,” said the Spenglactic. You know for a thing that was mainly zeroes and ones it sure behaved like it was enjoying itself.
Shep needed to take a moment to get into the motions. He may have barked once or twice in his younger years. Shep couldn’t recall if that was part of who he was or something implanted. Shep breathed in deep. The air was putrid and what made him feel even worse was that he didn’t mind the smell. At the end of the day. Shep was still a dog. He knew how to bark.
The lips curled, the teeth showed, and Shep opened his mouth wide. He barked once. Short, fierce and fueled by fear. Shep liked how it made him feel. Shep barked three more times in quick succession. Barking made Shep dizzy.
Drawing in a deep breath, Shep barked more. He kept on barking. His eyes closed and he wasn’t even aware of where he was, he felt connected into part of an invisible pack. The barking stretched back through time, and Shep felt alive and present. He was aware of his lungs. His feet, unsteady on a mound of rubbish. His fur standing up on his arms wanting to bust free from under his coveralls.
Shep stopped and looked down. There was the Space Janitor, eyes open. Was he barking?
Would you mind reading from the beginning because it’s a fantastic place to start. You can find the first instalment of Space Janitor by clicking here.