Walking the Dog

by Alun Williams

Sometimes I lie on my bed and think of that lady who walks her dog past my apartment every afternoon, the one I call the pink poodle lady. I ain't never seen a dog that's pink before and I guess it gets as many stares as her tight ass. She lives two blocks away, on Fifth and Washington just past Bellini's Diner. It's a big building but I know that she lives in apartment 903 as I made friends with the janitor, a Puerto Rican guy called Alvarez who told me all about her. She's called Miss Darlen and her poodle's called Paris, but I guess she ain't from Texas. One day soon, I'm gonna call on Miss Darlen, gonna walk right after her and knock on her door, but the bone I have won't be for the dog.


Alun Williams, ex-member of East of the Web, lives in Wales. He now writes in Critters Bar and Zoetrope under "maxie slim" and "Maxwell Allen." Several shorts by Alun have been published in Write Side Up, Cambrensis and Secret Attic.

1 comment:

writerwoman said...

Like the voice in this story. The ending is a little crude for my tastes but it does stay in character well.