This story was rejected by my teacher for being vulgar
The trickle of water disturbed his slumber. He slowly opened his eyes to see a dog peeing below his face. The white dog grinded at him, finished up, and skipped away. The man turned over, ignoring the smell. He reached under his blanket, pulled up his shirt and scratched his belly. He smacked his lips; incidentally his beard got in the way. It tasted bitter.
His hip was sore from lying on the wooden bench for so long. He wiggled, trying to get the blood flowing. The sun emerged from behind a cloud. A beam of light hit the man in the face. He squirmed, trying to block the sun with his hands. The hot sun burned against his face. He promptly sat straight up, panting a little. He blinked hard, his eyes readjusting. He had to strain to keep his eyes open.
The park was filled with lush green trees, and grass. The trees more so than the grass. The grass was damaged from the excessive amount of dog urine applied to it every day. There may be a law that people have to pick up their dog’s poop, but the is no such law for dog urine. It soaks into the ground and stays there, collecting.
The man threw up onto the sidewalk. Standing up was not agreeing with him. He went over to lean on the fence that enclosed the grass area. He looked up. Near the entrance to the grass area stood another man, the owner of the dog. The dog owner was starring at him. His face was scrunched up, as if he were constipated.
The dog owner realized that the homeless man was now looking at him. He quickly averted his eyes and pretended to be focusing intently on the poop coming out of his dog’s butt.
The man sighed. He dug his hand into his but, scratching it hard. He pulled out his hand and held it out in front of his face. He caught the dog owner staring at him again.
“Nice day,” the man shouted. The dog owner was silent for a moment.
“O,” said the dog owner, making sure no one else was around. “You are speaking to me?”
“No one else around.”
“Um, yes I see.”
“Your dog seems happy.”
“Wha… O, yes Scruffy. Yes, he does look happy doesn’t he.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, um… Nice talking to you, but um… we have to go… now. So… goodbye.” The dog owner walked over to the pooping dog and fastened the purple leash in his hand to its collar. The dog’s master rose and started to leave. The dog pushed its legs out in front of it, bracing itself against the tug of the leash. The master yanked hard, pulling the dog forward. The dog yelped in pain, the collar was tight against its neck. The last drop of poop fell from its butt.
The man leaned on the fence to watch the entertainment in front of him. He felt a raindrop fall on the back of his hand and started to chuckle.
The lanky master continued to struggle with the stout dog. Neither noticed that it was beginning to rain. Their tug of war seemed endless to the man, neither party seemed to have an edge over the other. In the battle of strength they were equal.
The rain stopped changed from drizzling to pouring. The lanky struggler, realizing that he was soaked, stopped pulling to exclaim in disgust at the indignity of being wet. The stout competitor had no such apprehensions. He continued to pull. Caught off guard the lanky loser was hauled to the ground by the dog. He slammed into the mud. He lifted up his face and tried to take a breath, but found no fresh air.
The rain had released all of the dog urine stored within the ground. Now the scent was filling the air, overwhelming the senses. Even the homeless man, usually unmoved by smells, had to take a step back.
The lanky loser lost it. He started to scream and cry. He threw himself out of the mud and slammed into the fence. The winner was barking at him, however not understanding the loser’s noises, the dog stopped barking and looked up lovingly to his master. He hoped for a reward for winning the battle. The maddened master slid down the fence and sunk back into the mud. His left eye began to twitch. His clothes were soaked through with water, mud, and dog urine. In front of him his dog wagged its tail in eager expectancy for a present it was not going to get.
The witness pulled the hood of his jacket over his long tangled hair. He hadn’t been this amused in a while. He walked off, chuckling all the way.
His hip was sore from lying on the wooden bench for so long. He wiggled, trying to get the blood flowing. The sun emerged from behind a cloud. A beam of light hit the man in the face. He squirmed, trying to block the sun with his hands. The hot sun burned against his face. He promptly sat straight up, panting a little. He blinked hard, his eyes readjusting. He had to strain to keep his eyes open.
The park was filled with lush green trees, and grass. The trees more so than the grass. The grass was damaged from the excessive amount of dog urine applied to it every day. There may be a law that people have to pick up their dog’s poop, but the is no such law for dog urine. It soaks into the ground and stays there, collecting.
The man threw up onto the sidewalk. Standing up was not agreeing with him. He went over to lean on the fence that enclosed the grass area. He looked up. Near the entrance to the grass area stood another man, the owner of the dog. The dog owner was starring at him. His face was scrunched up, as if he were constipated.
The dog owner realized that the homeless man was now looking at him. He quickly averted his eyes and pretended to be focusing intently on the poop coming out of his dog’s butt.
The man sighed. He dug his hand into his but, scratching it hard. He pulled out his hand and held it out in front of his face. He caught the dog owner staring at him again.
“Nice day,” the man shouted. The dog owner was silent for a moment.
“O,” said the dog owner, making sure no one else was around. “You are speaking to me?”
“No one else around.”
“Um, yes I see.”
“Your dog seems happy.”
“Wha… O, yes Scruffy. Yes, he does look happy doesn’t he.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, um… Nice talking to you, but um… we have to go… now. So… goodbye.” The dog owner walked over to the pooping dog and fastened the purple leash in his hand to its collar. The dog’s master rose and started to leave. The dog pushed its legs out in front of it, bracing itself against the tug of the leash. The master yanked hard, pulling the dog forward. The dog yelped in pain, the collar was tight against its neck. The last drop of poop fell from its butt.
The man leaned on the fence to watch the entertainment in front of him. He felt a raindrop fall on the back of his hand and started to chuckle.
The lanky master continued to struggle with the stout dog. Neither noticed that it was beginning to rain. Their tug of war seemed endless to the man, neither party seemed to have an edge over the other. In the battle of strength they were equal.
The rain stopped changed from drizzling to pouring. The lanky struggler, realizing that he was soaked, stopped pulling to exclaim in disgust at the indignity of being wet. The stout competitor had no such apprehensions. He continued to pull. Caught off guard the lanky loser was hauled to the ground by the dog. He slammed into the mud. He lifted up his face and tried to take a breath, but found no fresh air.
The rain had released all of the dog urine stored within the ground. Now the scent was filling the air, overwhelming the senses. Even the homeless man, usually unmoved by smells, had to take a step back.
The lanky loser lost it. He started to scream and cry. He threw himself out of the mud and slammed into the fence. The winner was barking at him, however not understanding the loser’s noises, the dog stopped barking and looked up lovingly to his master. He hoped for a reward for winning the battle. The maddened master slid down the fence and sunk back into the mud. His left eye began to twitch. His clothes were soaked through with water, mud, and dog urine. In front of him his dog wagged its tail in eager expectancy for a present it was not going to get.
The witness pulled the hood of his jacket over his long tangled hair. He hadn’t been this amused in a while. He walked off, chuckling all the way.
posted by Hank at 7:06 PM
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