People in General (excerpt)
by John Colasacco
I am still trying to find the right dog among all these beautiful dogs here in the street. Some of them know me and they know my habits somehow and they know what I would say if I could speak to them. This is the morning no one comes out of their house, it’s only me, the dogs and I, we have been sleeping all night and some of us it seems have been sleeping forever. After all that sleep we need to go outside and join together in this crowd where all else is quiet and the murmurs echo so perfectly. Each dog is looking around for something, feeling ignored, and I sense this the way I sense my fear of speaking in anger up to the point where I might say something that I don’t really think is true.