digging in the moonlight

The sun was setting on a long day. Red, orange, yellow, all shades in between tinged a tired sky. Clouds were hanging low, but they were thin and wispy. The air was moist, and speckled with flecks of humidity. Lighting rumbled a little, but it would not reach its full potential. Not tonight. Tonight would be the kind of night that puts blinders on the hues of human activity, and hides them even from the sight of god above. Birds began to whistle frantic songs as they made their way towards their nests to where their babies would be waiting. The ground felt soft and numb, as if already asleep. The mud was deep and dark. Hiding secrets that would stay with it till the end of time.

A digging sound could be heard. Everything else was silence. The digging was muffled, it was slow, it was ominous, it was steady. Slowly, the lights of the buildings began to twinkle off, in no particular order. Slowly, the world began to go to sleep.

The digging continued.

The nighttime sky felt soft and velvety black above. The air smelled of fresh mud, and of something comatose and sluggish. Gaia herself was asleep, why would the thousands of insignificant insects on her not be.

Thud, thud, thud. Heavy. Insistent. Muffled.

The air tasted cool and wet. As the night went on, it too became muffled. Everything aged. Everything fell asleep. Spirits flying towards the heavens. But for the digging.

Thud, thud, thud. Consistent. Untiring. Purposeful.

The moon was barely there, a thin slice of a crescent trying to give as much as it could. Under the light - at least there was some - you could see a shadow of a man digging on the ground. Upon closer inspection, you saw his rugged face, it was only when you were right next to him would you see the scars, the hard eyes, without light or fear or pity or empathy. His brows were dirty, his face muddy. His arms were big, his hair brittle. Clouds whistled by the moon, and for a brief second, there was darkness. He stopped as well.

Then they moved away. Thud, thud, thud. The pile of dirt beside him was growing taller. He looked around, fidgety, then he began to grab some of the mud, and began to make a structure. There was a painful yapping next to him. Sounds of agitation, sounds of fear. Trees stood guard by him. And a few feet away was a deep lake. If someone were thrown into it, feet burdened with heavy rocks, they would drown, they would not be found.

The yapping intensified. Painful. Struggling to break free. There was a cage next to him. Shadows moved inside. 

Then he was done. He moved towards the cage, slowly, like a predator on the hunt. The sounds inside quieted down. He opened it with a flash, and moved away by the structure, sat on his haunches and waited. The innocent puppies wandered around, and came to the man, and he showed them their new home. The one that would protect them from predators high in the sky.