Every story has a heartbeat of its own.. Mine often begins with paws on the floor, demanding their breakfast. Greedy as they are, they also teach us life lessons when we least expect it. We are often saved–by that bark.
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Tembling stood apart from other housing estates in Singapore– short buildings with arched windows faced each other, not tall matchboxes with translucent, symmetrical, see-through squares. Stone gravel combated the tarred road at the estate’s edge, a tussle between tradition and modernity.
The people of Tembling were– extraordinary.
Hermit crabs that stayed within their shells, they seldom appeared at night.
So it was late in the estate– and quiet. The silence came over it like a funeral cloth. Silence never meant safety. Rain hissed, sharpening the unease.
I was out with Snowball on our stroll, the street watching us, muted. Every shadow looked as if it held secrets– ones about to spill over. Fear stalked the streets, its eyes unseen.
Present.
Hiding secrets in its furtiveness.
Snowball’s paws made the only honest sound.
We walked around the park. Then, she halted abruptly, raising her hocks. She had pulled back her face in a snarl.
A click on the pavement.
A silhouette. Standing, its shadowy form looming under a street lamp.
His faux smile didn’t stretch; it sat uncomfortably, plastered where it didn’t belong. As I passed, he muttered something unintelligible and strained.
Probably a harmless vagrant languishing at a nearby void deck.
He lifted his hand, hovering. I ignored him; homeless workers who made their living at nearby construction sites were a feature of Tembling.
But the little dog emitted a low growl. Dogs never bothered with fake smiles. She held my trust, locked between her paws.
The man crept away from the lamp post, clutching something in his pockets. His hand twitched, too guilty to remain still. He drew it out–
And lost his grip.
A metal ping resounded sharply as it hit the grey gravel.
An echo– too loud.
A pocket knife.
Serrated.
Sharp.
My mind spun, a record that wouldn’t stop. My breath caught. I had been missed-
By a bark–because I sensed.
Snowball’s growl continued to fill the silent air, pulsing.
Ready.
The man ran, face contorted in fear.
I hugged Snowball, glad that my trust had found the right place.
Human deception– trumped by canine truth.
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