When she looked outside the living room window, she noticed how the sky had taken on a strange color—grey sliding into an odd green-blue hue. Trees in the distance had already started swaying, and she could hear the window panes groaning lightly under the pressure.
She turned to head back downstairs—photo in hand—when she heard it. Barking. Short, sharp bursts, over and over again. She frowned. Neither of her neighbors had a dog so where was this sound coming from? She continued to head towards the basement, but the sound only grew louder.
Maya paused at the top of the stairs. The barking kept going—loud, quick, and constant. She hadn’t noticed any strays in the neighborhood recently so where was the barking coming from? And why hadn’t it stopped? Curiosity edged into concern. She turned around and walked toward the front window.
Carefully, she pulled the curtain to the side. And there it was. A soaked, golden-brown dog standing near the garden fence, paws muddy, barking directly toward the house. Maya leaned in, eyes narrowing. Something about the way it barked—over and over—made her stomach twist. Something wasn’t right.