Picture it: You and me walking hand in hand along the beach. Waves crashing on the rocky shore. Up ahead, a Golden Retriever teaches her pups to swim.

[Dale Cooper Black 340]

Picture it: You and me walking hand in hand along the beach. Waves crashing on the rocky shore. Up ahead, a Golden Retriever teaches her pups to swim. Several hedgehogs emerge from the nearby woods and join in the fun, playfully splashing amidst the puppies. A hedgehog beckons us to jump in with them.

 

We do, leaving our clothes in a heap on the trail. I catch sight of a man on a hill, watching us with binoculars. I think it's my landlord, but it's hard to tell. The puppies, becoming more confident, start to encircle us in the water. There is a sinister edge to their seemingly playful maneuvers.

 

The mother is growling at something, perhaps us. One of the hedgehogs gently nudges me. I can tell by his expression that it is time to leave. We jump out of the water and get dressed, as darkness falls upon us and a cold wind starts to blow.

 

I wave to the man on the hill, still watching us but now in shadows and only partially visible. He crouches down and disappears into the darkness. Is he coming towards us? Or is it just the wind?

 

A sudden noise sends me backwards, and I accidentally step on the Golden Retriever's tail. She yelps, and then turns her attention to me. Her growl is barely audible, but there is fire in her eyes as she stares directly into mine. I struggle to say something, to extinguish her fury, but my throat is tight. Desperate to defuse the situation, I manage to eke out the first thing that comes to my mind.

 

"Sorry, bitch!"