Journal of E. Pinter September 30th 2012
Last night after I had finished my journal entry I found myself restless and got in my car and drove to the lakeshore. It was a mild night and still early enough for people to be sitting with their families toasting marshmallows around campfires. I walked further down the beach where the coast was less hospitable.
The algae coated rocks made walking quite perilous but my mind was caught up in all I had read and ignored the risk. It was dark with only the moon and the flashlight on my phone to light the way and my eyes were playing tricks on me.
I kept seeing something just at the edge of my peripheral vision, something bright like the strike of a match but when I turned my head it was gone.
Had I read something about phosphorous pollution? Could this be what I saw or perhaps some suicidal fireflies?
Just ahead there was an old jetty that was just perfect for sitting in crosslegged contemplation. It was windier at the end of the jetty than it had been on shore and it picked up a fine spray from the lake as it blew across. I shut my eyes and mind so that I could feel the environment. There was something incredibly relaxing about allowing the wind to wreak havoc with my hair as the waves rebounded gently on the rocks. I felt like if I just let go, the gravity that was holding me anchored would release it’s hold and the wind would toss me about like a freed balloon.
I was imagining voices coming from behind. Voices like the call of a nightbird or the howl of a wolf. But there were no wolves here, a dog perhaps, yes a dog calling for it’s human. When I turned around to look I was surprised to see a thick white fog rolling towards me making it impossible to tell where the shore was anymore. And in that fog the sound of paws scrambling on the rocks. Any minute now I expected to hear a whistle, a voice call out and the paws retreat. But on they came slowly and with purpose, I could see a shape, bulky with fur bristling. It’s eyes were bright. I refuse to say they glowed but there was an intelligence there. It stopped just inches from where I was sitting, studying me.
It looked exactly like a wolf. But that was impossible because as I said there are no wolves here unless one escaped from the zoo. But that was impossible… Wasn’t it? It must be one of those hybrids like a Malamute or a King Shepherd. It inched closer and I could feel it’s nose on my hand. It’s eyes never left mine as it imprinted my scent on it’s memory. And then it was gone. I felt drained. And more than anything I wished I was home in bed but I had to wait for the fog to lift.