Every soul needs a guide–even if it isn’t human.

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All Souls’ Day blanketed the pavements and roads in velvet black and the dim light of street lamps; anything but a typical day for a little pet dog.

Snowball stationed herself at her home’s bay window, hoping to unsettle the

patrons at the coffee shop opposite with her insistent, barking overtures.

She didn’t have mischief in mind that day; instead, she stood at the window, each paw trembling, hackles raised.

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The air froze with biting cold; atypical for Singapore, a country with heat and

humidity as its middle name.

A chill numbed the air indoors; the smell of damp leaves pervaded the air. I

concentrated on my book review, for the first time donning an outdated cotton

sweater.

Then—the low, persistent growls.

Snowball had positioned herself in front of my bedroom wall, paws stiff, nails

clicking on the floor.

An almost-human whisper grazed my ear. My breath caught, and my jaw dropped. as it looked around.

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The little West Highland Terrier lunged at the wall. A long silence followed.

Too long.

Then, a faint shimmer—the ambiguous outline of a silhouette.

Lost.

Caught between Heaven and Earth.

Asking—

Just for a name.

My heartbeat synced with its pulse—

One that echoed for a presence.

The little dog had guided—

And found.

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“Snowball. It’s alright. No need.”

Her cue not to bark.

She obeyed and lay down, finally calm.

The room felt—

Lighter.

Warmer, with the whisper now unheard.

But the chill was a permanent guest.

Teasing a little dog wasn’t the name of the lost soul’s game—

It had asked the little terrier for guidance.

To where it belonged.

The whisper left. But at night, Snowball still faced the wall–and heard the clicks.

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Please find a book of my horror microfiction, Echoes in the Dark, free for download here.