A Dog And His Girl (Formerly Neighbor’s Basement) – A Short Story

The Original Edition

He stared at her from across the river. She could not be more than five years old. Stories had been drifting around about the little girl with a robot dog.

Could this be her?

He stayed perched on the bank. He had come to enjoy the nature, now he was seeing this town’s ‘Bigfoot.’

A normal girl, a huge pile of black curls hid the fact that he could have sworn she was naked. From this distance he could not tell.

If she’s the girl from Doctor Barnhauer’s experiments, she should be sixteen by now.

A metallic British accent scared the wits out of him. “She doesn’t bite, you know.”

He turned to see a stainless box designed in the stylized shape of a dog. “I-I didn’t mean to stare.”

He felt a presence behind him. He turned to look her straight in the face. One brown eye and the other completely white save a tinge of grey around the pupil, looked as if they were reading deep in his mind.

The whir of motors buzzed from the direction of the robot. “I am Buster and this is Angel. Do you have business here?”

“I-I-I—” He stammered. “Can she really do those things they say?”

“Whatcha askin him for? I’m right here.” She said.

He turned to face her, avoiding her nakedness.

“Yeah, I know. But I am allergic to fabric. The process my mind went through during the change made a bunch a stuff go haywire.” She answered his thoughts.

“Yes, I can do that too. Its just like asking me a question out loud. The eye? Was damaged by the battle with Barnhauer when we killed him in that street over there.”

“Are you Her?”

“If I answer that, I can’t letcha live. The CIA is searching for the three of us.”

“Is there a reward?”

“Hmm. You adults are all alike.” She rose to leave.

“Are you really Angel?”

She turned back to him. She cocked her head sideways then smiled. “Sure am, Agent Siemens.”

She spread her hands out beside her, palms up, bringing them level with her shoulders. She turned them as if dropping something on the ground.

Every organ in the Agent’s body exploded with a soft whush and fine spray of blood. Then he rolled, lifeless from his perch on the bank.

“Stupid Adults.” She said walking away.


About sirkeystone

This dude lives and slaves in the Siloam Springs Arkansas area, where his day job is a flooring installer. For now. An author, artist, guitar repair guy, and loves to play with cars. Not just HotWheels either. Guitar, Bass, and vocals for local False Hope band, an Indie/Country/Rock band that used to be a classic rock cover band.

Posted on March 28, 2012, in Neighbor's Basement, writings and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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