Star and I

She has her eyes closed and he looks up to heaven and neither of them notice the grass is on fire - Jeanette Winterson 'Sexing the Cherry'

You are half asleep and suddenly you wish you aren't. The hours gnaw at you. The dogs are barking, stirring up a racket and the half moon shines with unusal madness. The barking grows louder and louder until it grows on you, propelling you to get out of bed and now here you are pressing your nose against the cold sheen of the glass, hanging by the window to see what the hubbub's all about.

The dogs are out in numbers - wolfish and savage. Apparently a newbie wandered into the forbidden area.

Was he (the dog) crazy? Yes it would have to be a 'he' and now go on call me a sexist.

Anyway they corner him now, those bitches ready to tear into him. There is no stopping them. Maybe he'd put up a fight, maybe he'd not. Come morning he would lie in a pool of his own blood not ready to forgive himself as yet.

You don't care. All you care about is that you're missing a pillow. Like a dream you walk straight back to bed. You feel a tickle at the back of your neck where your hair stand upright and the day's only a few hours away.