[ The dog's fingers press and press. Heine thinks they might pierce through skin and tear into his muscles, rip through the thin wall of membrane that keeps his insides inside. But not yet—all he feels is teeth at his ear and he grunts, jerking his head aside. ]
Shut the fuck up. You're not my friend. [ Losing patience rapidly, Heine moves as if to take a step forward. But when they're weightless and ungrounded, there's no way to escape except to push his dog away.
no subject
Shut the fuck up. You're not my friend. [ Losing patience rapidly, Heine moves as if to take a step forward. But when they're weightless and ungrounded, there's no way to escape except to push his dog away.
Turning, he jabs an elbow into its chest again. ]
I said shut up.