Tangled

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12 Ava: Husky (I)

I turn the key in the lock, the familiar click signaling the start of another day at The Novel Grind. Mrs. Elkins is reading a book in one of our plush,

overstuffed armchairs, content to let me take over her morning chores.❤

“Keep the door open, dear,” she says, flipping a page and squinting through her bifocals. “An open door brings traffic, and it’s such a nice morning.”

The heavy door is a beast to prop open, and I wonder how Mrs. Elkins has managed all these years. Eventually, I find the sweet spot to jam the doorstop in, but sweat is gathering in my armpits by the time I figure it out.

I take a moment to breathe in the pine–fresh air, enjoying the chill that curls into my lungs as the sun warms my face. A soft whine catches my attention and I glance down in surprise at the silver husky sitting just outside the door, its tail thumping gently against the sidewalk.

The dog’s eyes are a blue so light that they almost

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12 Ava: Husky (1)

seem white and seem to pierce right through me, as though they can see every secret I’ve ever hidden deep into the recesses of my mind. But then that thought is gone, because hey, it’s just a dog.

Though, I can’t help but notice the uncanny similarity between the husky’s eyes and my own. It’s a little creepy. Plus, they look better on the furry one.

“Hey there, buddy,” I say, easing into a crouch. “What are you doing here so early?”

It does an adorable head tilt, perking its ears forward as though listening with deep thought to every word that I speak. It doesn’t make a sound, but I can’t help but think, again, there’s an uncanny intelligence in its

gaze.

The dog doesn’t seem to mind when I reach out a hand, and my fingers brush against the soft fur of its face. It leans into my touch, its eyes half–closed in pleasure, savoring the contact.

doesn’t have dogs around. Or cats. Or

14:00

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Ava: Husky (1)

We eat them.

boy, aren’t you?” I

scratching.

dog pulls back, and I swear there’s affront all over that furry

I try again.

and she lets out a

agreement.

sign of an owner, but the street is empty save for a few

in the distance. “Are you lost, sweet

me, and I have the

my face. Between that and the fur I’d managed to loosen with happy

for even a wolfless

rhythmic string of

10:40 —

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Husky

I swear she rolls her eyes.

You can’t possibly miss being in a pack so much that you’re starting to wolfy–ize

fall over in surprise. She tuts and swats at my arm.

isn’t obvious, Mrs. Elkins is pretty hip to new technology. She says it’s her job, because

how to cater

to come in, little pup?” Mrs. Elkins asks the husky, who woofs at her. “That’s what I thought. Come on in. Don’t get your fur all over my chairs. Those are

I can’t shake the feeling that something is just off with this dog. Then again, I have never been away from a pack before, and I’ve heard that going solo does weird things to wolves. I’ll have to keep an eye out for that. There’s no point in

14:40

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