Food From a Hungry Ghost

A guy wakes up.  His room is a blue void in the hour before sunrise. He stands up from his mattress and creeps deftly between the remains of days past.  Erga pricks her ears and then looks away in anticipation of his bathroom light.  After he closes the door, there is the sound of him peeing, and the squeals of a shower knob.

Erga rises from her position and stretches three times as she paddles from the mattress to the door. She starts by lowering her head into a bow, then drops her hind legs into a stretch of her entire bottom-half, ending with a furious shake and a yawn.  Jacob, the small boy she likes to take on walks and play “tug” with, is undisturbed by the noise when she looks back to check on him.  Pleased, she creeps to the crack of light under the door to sniff loudly.  Right as the knob begins to turn, she plops promptly on her rear and looks up dutifully.

The guy gives her a click of his tongue as soon as the door cracks open, so she runs toward it even though her squatty terrier body won’t fit without some effort.  She squeezes in and lies on the small black rug while he steps over her to get back in the shower.  The steam is comforting for her to breathe so she doesn’t mind it when he leans out of the shower and drips on her to fetch his toothbrush.  He rubs her where a water drop landed, and then in the divot between her eyes.  Erga savors the moment and falls back asleep, her tongue drooping onto the floor, listening to the guy humming in his shower.