Coyotes Weep - The Night Series
Part 1
Song in the Night
This story came about because I took my dog out for a last
potty break before bedtime. I heard the coyotes
singing as they closed in on a late night snack. POW!
Instant writer block removal.
Suddenly, after struggling all week to work on one of my in progress
stories and coming up blank… I had a story.
Thanks go to
If you have to have warnings…. There is a major one for this
story. I think it spoils it to read it
first, but if you have to have one… scroll down to the bottom. Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I heard the coyotes singing again tonight.
It's been a long time since I've heard that mournful
sound. The eerie, haunting cry of a
hunting pack closing in on their prey.
The pitch and frequency changing as they get closer to success.
They mostly communicate to each other with yips and yowls.
Until the circle is complete and their prey is at hand. Then the sounds change to the howl that most
people are familiar with. The sound can
be encouraging… if the coyote can survive surely so can you. The sound can also be devastating. It can rip your heart apart even further than
you ever thought possible. The pain can
be overwhelming and all consuming. Your
soul being pulled from your body. A
living corpse forced to survive because everyone tells you, you should. They need you. You can't give up and die too. Duty can be a pain in the ass. Which come to think about it… is pretty damn
ironic. Since pain in my ass or
otherwise is pretty much a thing of the past.
A soulless body can't feel pain.
Can it?
But I digress. I was
talking about the coyotes.
They are fascinating animals. Intent on one common
goal. Survival of the pack.
I used to love listening to the coyotes when we went
camping. I'd make a game out of it. Trying to understand what they were
saying. Making up stories to ease my
partner out of his doldrums. We'd often
go camping to get away from the problems in the city. Some times it even worked. Getting back to nature and all that other
bullshit that belongs to a past life and another person.
Hell, I live on the edge of nature and my problems don't
seem to get any better. I'm tied to this
empty life with no way out. The good of
the pack, you know. I'm not sure what
good I am to the pack like this, but I'm resigned to continuing on. I think it's my penance for not protecting
him. Sometimes I dream of that fateful
day. Of course in dreams you can
sometimes change the outcome to one you like better. And they wonder why I sleep so long.
But I'm rambling again.
I was talking about coyotes.
Coyotes are cousins to wolves, you know. Maybe he's trying to tell me something. I slowly maneuver my chair closer to the
door. After a few moments of struggle, I
manage to push the right button to get the door open and roll across the
porch. I want to hear the coyotes sing
again.
The end.
******SPOILER WARNING!
My wonderful beta said I needed to put a death/disablement of a major
character(s) warning on this story. If that kind of thing bothers you,
you don't want to read the story.
(from
Feedback is greatly appreciated. Cheryl