This is for Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt.
photo by Jake Oates via Unsplash
He’s here again, always comes alone, takes one of us away with him, big ones he likes best, bitch, dog, no matter.
He watches us, eyes strange and cruel, and I watch his hands, feel the pain that comes from them, smell his smell of fear.
Get down, dog, I say to me, hide—he smells of blood.