thud, screech

The fields were of wheat and soy, the sun was shining down hard. The wind was drowsy, soft and tender. His stomach growled as he pushed forward, sniffing at the ground. Something smelled really strong, he sniffed all around it, and then sniffed at it from a few inches away. No, it smelled bad. Like the kind that would make his stomach sick, and probably cause him to die. His stomach growled. He looked back, tail tucked between his legs. Cars rushed by on the road beside him. He was really hungry. His tongue was out, even though there was a stream of water right next to him, it smelled of the poison that the two leggeds usually put into the earth. He licked his paws, they hurt from all the hard and hot roads he had been walking on. He could put them in the stream, to cool them down, but then he wouldn’t be able to lick them. His stomach growled. His skin was taut and stretched tightly over his ribs, his fur was soft and thin, and scratchy too. He felt an itch in his ears, and could hear the insects teeming about. He scratched himself. The sun shone down hard. The cars were loud. The wind hissing as they barreled through it. He walked on. A man whistled at him, and he approached warily, tail doing a little wag. Then some boys rushed past, laughing, obnoxious. They stopped. He could smell their mischief on them. He yelped and ran before the stones began hurtling towards him. Soon, he was tired. Too soon. Much sooner than when he used to be a puppy. His tongue was lolling outside, it was hot. And he remembered a different time, but a same him. Running around with his siblings in these fields. Playing all day. One day, his mother hadn’t come back. They whined and yelped and barked, maybe she had gotten lost. Maybe she needed to hear their cries to come running towards them, like she always did. But she didn’t come back. The night had come, and the night had gone. She had not come back. Night turned into day, and they had started to get hungry. His eldest brother had ventured off, trying to find her. He didn’t come back. Day turned into night, they were now thirsty too. His sister was the thirstiest, she started to drink from the forbidden stream. Almost immediately, she began to puke. She closed her eyes, and did not open them. His youngest brother died from hunger. He had somehow survived. His stomach growled. That’s what he was, a survivor. He had survived the cruelty of people, waiting on the scraps of kindness they sometimes offered. He had survived on the scarcity of food in this place. He had survived. His stomach growled. The traffic hurtled by him. He sighed, rolled his tongue inside his mouth. He looked at the traffic, and jolted into the road. Thump. Screeching. A dog lay on its side, dead on impact.