The Old Dog and the Sea

The moon was a heavy, white dish. The bird was an orange and yellow blur. The dog could only smell it in the air, he couldn’t see it. He heard it, too, but he could only hear it if he listened. The wind carried sounds that were so high pitched they could only be heard by dogs. He could smell the bird’s breath. He could taste the bird.

The dog was fishing on the beach. He didn’t fly but the dog was happy. The dog didn’t have a name so once he decided “Woof!” and that was what his friends called him. The dog liked it so he always said “Woof!” even though it was a lie. But the dog was happy.

The dog looked up. The moon was a lot smaller than the sun. The moon was round and yellow, or maybe orange. The bird was an orange and yellow blur. That’s not right. That’s not what the moon is. The moon has ice on it. The moon has rocks. The dog took another whiff so he could smell it. “The moon was an orange and yellow blur.”

The dog tasted the ocean.