A Bridge to the Stars

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The dog.

That was what started it all.

If he hadn’t seen that solitary dog, nothing might have happened. Nothing of what later became so important that it changed everything. Nothing of what was so exciting at first, but became so horrible.

It all started with the dog. The solitary dog he’d seen that night last winter when he’d suddenly woken up, got out of bed, tiptoed out to the window seat in the hall and sat down.

He had no idea why he’d woken up in the middle of the night.

Maybe he’d had a dream?

A nightmare that he couldn’t recall when he woke up. Or maybe his dad had been snoring in the bedroom next to his own? His dad didn’t often snore, but sometimes there might be an occasional one, a bit like a roar, and then it would be all quiet again.

Like a lion roaring in the winter’s night.

But it was when he was sitting by the window in the hall that he saw the solitary dog.

The window had been covered in ice crystals, and he’d breathed onto the glass so that he could see out. The thermometer showed nearly thirty degrees below zero. And it was then, as he sat looking out of the window, that he’d caught sight of the dog. It ran out into the road, all on its own.

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