The challenge, should you choose to accept. :) A short paragraph or two involving a dog, rain and an open area or field. No real reason for these particular restrictions, just a launch-pad for the inventive mind. Any genre is acceptable, try to keep it under 250 words. We are not looking for novels, novellas or entire short stories. Intended purely for fun, it may spur the imagination to something lengthier down the line. Open to all comers, if there are sufficient entries we might vote for the best at a later date. I offer up these three deficient examples as a starting point.
Emerging from the undergrowth a fresh, chill breeze swept through the tangled grove. The scent of autumnal grass wafted, mingled with the musty rotting lumber, festooned with fungi. Barren heart of this woodland realm the grassy knoll, a patchwork mosaic of discoloured forage for the occasional ruminants. Signs of deer, wild boar and coney had left transient overlapping impressions in the dark exposed loam filled now to the brim. The rain had ceased at last, which was a blessed relief, ill-prepared as he was for a prolonged adventure in the thin cotton apparel. The canine inquisitor clawed, scored the sodden earth, for the buried cache. To which the pair had been, inexorably drawn. Missy Ryder had vanished a week ago, and eager teams must have searched this place a dozen times before. Detective Jacobs could see the blanched fingertips unearthed by his excitable companion. He reeled backwards, overpowered by the unmistakable stench of death and putrid decay.
Far and high the mustard yellow globe arced in the low gravity, propelled in its path, over the artificial turf. Coming back to solid ground, followed by a rapid succession of ever-decreasing iterations. Gainly, the short-haired terrier, pursued the discarded toy, determined to recover the item and return it to the small child. Doubtless a foolish mistake, the animal assumed, what with humans being so absent-minded. As the ball came to a final rest, the animal pounced and snarled, biting into the rubberised prey hearing it squeal with a rasping nasal wheeze. High above, fastened to the protective dome, which shielded them from the frozen vacuum of the void, the arrayed nozzles sprayed the disinfectant in a precisely calculated deluge. The time was 4:06, it was always 4:06, and the mutt should have known better than to entertain the boy at this juncture. The watery cocktail seeped into the coarse fur and probed, soaked the metallic body for an unsealed fissure. A mortal spasm, an ungodly scream and the dog keeled over trapped in an endless series of cascading system errors.
Beneath the broad drooping branches, burden by the verdant foliage, Duane and Ellie plighted their troth. In a few scant weeks, their love had blossomed, grown after an accidental encounter at the ice-cream parlour. He had spilt a large glass of frosted vanilla shake all over her brand new floral dress. The horror, abject apologies and the ensuing laughter of their raucous fellows had seen him whisk her back to Mrs Dunstall’s for an immediate replacement. When she re-emerged from the changing rooms, he was struck dumb by the beauteous vision. Every day for a week, he waited outside her gate to offer up another apology until at last, she relented, permitting him to make amends. After this, they were inseparable. Insufferable to their friends, consumed by unadulterated exhibitions of love. Taking the urge to mark the event they had sought out the venerable oak, standing sentinel in the centre of Potter’s field. The only other witness to the tryst, Duane’s aged indifferent hound. The heavens opened, the distant rumble of thunder as he knelt before her, clutching her hand. Fingers intertwined he pleaded for her consent as from behind his back he disclosed the opened box and enclosed ring.
Emerging from the undergrowth a fresh, chill breeze swept through the tangled grove. The scent of autumnal grass wafted, mingled with the musty rotting lumber, festooned with fungi. Barren heart of this woodland realm the grassy knoll, a patchwork mosaic of discoloured forage for the occasional ruminants. Signs of deer, wild boar and coney had left transient overlapping impressions in the dark exposed loam filled now to the brim. The rain had ceased at last, which was a blessed relief, ill-prepared as he was for a prolonged adventure in the thin cotton apparel. The canine inquisitor clawed, scored the sodden earth, for the buried cache. To which the pair had been, inexorably drawn. Missy Ryder had vanished a week ago, and eager teams must have searched this place a dozen times before. Detective Jacobs could see the blanched fingertips unearthed by his excitable companion. He reeled backwards, overpowered by the unmistakable stench of death and putrid decay.
Far and high the mustard yellow globe arced in the low gravity, propelled in its path, over the artificial turf. Coming back to solid ground, followed by a rapid succession of ever-decreasing iterations. Gainly, the short-haired terrier, pursued the discarded toy, determined to recover the item and return it to the small child. Doubtless a foolish mistake, the animal assumed, what with humans being so absent-minded. As the ball came to a final rest, the animal pounced and snarled, biting into the rubberised prey hearing it squeal with a rasping nasal wheeze. High above, fastened to the protective dome, which shielded them from the frozen vacuum of the void, the arrayed nozzles sprayed the disinfectant in a precisely calculated deluge. The time was 4:06, it was always 4:06, and the mutt should have known better than to entertain the boy at this juncture. The watery cocktail seeped into the coarse fur and probed, soaked the metallic body for an unsealed fissure. A mortal spasm, an ungodly scream and the dog keeled over trapped in an endless series of cascading system errors.
Beneath the broad drooping branches, burden by the verdant foliage, Duane and Ellie plighted their troth. In a few scant weeks, their love had blossomed, grown after an accidental encounter at the ice-cream parlour. He had spilt a large glass of frosted vanilla shake all over her brand new floral dress. The horror, abject apologies and the ensuing laughter of their raucous fellows had seen him whisk her back to Mrs Dunstall’s for an immediate replacement. When she re-emerged from the changing rooms, he was struck dumb by the beauteous vision. Every day for a week, he waited outside her gate to offer up another apology until at last, she relented, permitting him to make amends. After this, they were inseparable. Insufferable to their friends, consumed by unadulterated exhibitions of love. Taking the urge to mark the event they had sought out the venerable oak, standing sentinel in the centre of Potter’s field. The only other witness to the tryst, Duane’s aged indifferent hound. The heavens opened, the distant rumble of thunder as he knelt before her, clutching her hand. Fingers intertwined he pleaded for her consent as from behind his back he disclosed the opened box and enclosed ring.