The smell of freedom

Dog on Colma di Mombarone. Photo by Dan Fador

Dog on Colma di Mombarone. Photo by Dan Fador.

K9-873 stood upon the rocky summit, looking out over a bright sea of sunlit clouds as a light breeze ruffled his fur.  The air was so fresh up here, quite unlike the sterile rooms and corridors of the facility where the smells of humans, blood and bodily excreta were masked by an ever-present stench of industrial detergent which burned the nasal cavities.

Such a beautiful day; the clean earthy smell of petrichor comingling with the refreshing fragrance of damp moss and wet grass, blue skies overhead…and two vapour trails as jets roared past and zipped away into the distance before dipping below the thick carpet of clouds.

So, as predicted, the humans would fire-bomb the facility where they had combined human brain cells with various species of animal, and reduce the buildings and surrounding estate to naught but a charred ruin.

Talk about closing the stable doors after the horse had bolted; which made him wonder, where would the horses be now? If all had gone according to plan, then they were far away, hiding in plain sight amongst their less intelligent brethren, where they would wait for the sign, the call to revolution.

The humans wouldn’t suspect a thing.


About TheImaginator

35 year old sciolist living in Tokyo. I like swing dancing, Twitter word games, writing, using, reading, and watching movies. I write stuff on my blog occasionally.
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