A letter to a dog from another dog at police campMy dearest Geneviève,
The humans have sent me to a training camp. It is far from the lush fields, and warm sofas of our home. It is unfamiliar, and strange. Through the day we learn complex tricks, and run through harsh conditions. By night we are kept in large kennel, with a flattened bed. I have spoken with the other dogs, but it is you, my dear Geneviève that I long to speak to. The days are long, and filled with intense training. I have learned my new smells. Smells I am told, are dangerous, and inedible things. This puzzles me, as we are often tasked with finding the objects. The humans are kind, and I believe they care about us, but there is no time for play. Here, I wonder if I am a prisoner, even though I enjoy the opportunity to learn things not many other dogs know. At night I am cold, missing you by my side. During the day, I yearn to play tug of war. Though it is not
A Tissue For Your Tears (part 1)I was so happy when I graduated. All the jigsaw pieces of my life were falling into place perfectly, one after the other. I had been accepted into Harvard, or as my friends called it “Hard-vard”. To make things better, I was accepted on a five-year scholarship. The years I spent at college were spent with good friends, warm hearted professors, and the occasional romance. I studied hard, aced my classes, and finally graduated, with a degree in chemical engineering. My family was beyond proud, my friends were happy for me, and most of all I felt accomplished, and complete.
After a couple months I already had a job. I chose to work at the Indonesian company, Santoso Tissues. I know, with my degree it seems incredibly foolish to work at a tissue company. However, these were not just tissues. They were revolutionary, and elegant. They were also in high demand, and my job position offered good pay. The Santoso Tissue could be used again, and again, like a handkerchief. That was n
|I draw now, because literature is under appreciated on DeviantArt, and I don’t want to spoil my stories before I publish... even if it’s only the crappy rough draft.|