Alyssa
sat down on the toilet to do her business; peering out the window
beside her was habitual. The neighbor’s dog looked up at her and
howled as he did every morning. Alyssa looked at her watch. It was
seven-thirty. Yep, he’s right on schedule. Damn dog thinks he's
a rooster. Didn’t know this little town had gotten so small as to
allow roosters in the back yards.
An hour later, Alyssa ushered her four year old son Collin to the car. The dog looked at them and howled. Alyssa looked at her watch. Eight-thirty. She cocked her head to one side and rethought her earlier conclusion. No, not a rooster. The dog is a grandfather clock, chiming on the half-hour. Maybe he’s set wrong. She drove the few miles to the preschool building and had her usual morning chat with the teacher before heading off to the grocery store.
She was pulling the few bags of groceries out of the car when the dog howled at her. She eyed her watch. Ten-thirty. He’s impeccable. Her watch was set to the atomic clock at work. It was the exact number of hours and minutes from Greenwich Mean Time as their little town had been calculated to be. The dog is an anomaly.
Alyssa put away her groceries and fired up her computer for her daily checkup on her writing. She typed out a short story and was just rereading it when the dog howled again. She checked her watch. Eleven-thirty. Thanks, dog. She saved her work and went into the kitchen to get some lunch.
Her hunger assuaged, Alyssa lay down on the couch to take a quick catnap. Working until eleven at night and getting up to get her son to school every morning had caught up to her this week. She hadn’t quite fallen asleep when the dog’s high-pitched howl assailed her ears. She looked at her watch. Twelve-thirty. She sat up. He’s an alarm clock, too. She returned to the computer to work on her story.
Finally edited and posted, the story looked just as appealing as Alyssa’d hoped it would. She saved it and shut down the computer, then flipped on the television. The dog reminded her it was one-thirty and she would soon need to go get Collin. She was glad to be off today. The mind numbing fatigue wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t have to use her mind. She checked that she had her purse and her keys and headed off to the car.
Collin’s typical after school antics made it two-thirty when they got home. The dog howled. Alyssa ignored it. She’d gotten tired of checking her watch every time the thing made its hideous noise, and Collin’s boundless energy and strings of questions were giving her a headache. Collin turned to look at the dog, and she nearly tripped over him. Alyssa whirled and glared at the dog. It looked like it was laughing at her. She grabbed Collin by the shoulder of his coat and pushed him into the house.
Alyssa tried to concentrate on the cartoon Collin was watching, but she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she got from looking at the dog. At three-thirty, the dog howled. Alyssa lay on the couch with a pillow over her head. At four-thirty, the dog howled. Her husband Nick came in the door from work and asked about the howling dog. He was used to the seven-thirty wake up call, but he’d never heard it howl like that any other time of day. Alyssa told him about the hourly howling. Nick was intrigued. At five-thirty, the dog howled. Nick didn’t seem to notice.
Collin and Nick were playing Matchbox cars on the living room floor when the dog howled at six-thirty. Nick looked at Alyssa. She stood up from her position on the couch and went to the door. The dog was looking in her direction. She shook herself. The dog was giving her the creeps.
At seven-thirty, Collin was in the bathtub. The dog howled. Alyssa and Collin began singing songs to drown out the howl. At eight-thirty Collin was asleep in his bed after a round of lullabies, and the dog howled. At nine-thirty, Nick and Alyssa were huddled on the couch watching a Bond flick, and the dog howled. At ten-thirty, Alyssa was putting her contact lenses into their case, and the dog howled. At eleven-thirty, as she and Nick were trying to make love, the dog howled. At twelve-thirty, Alyssa finally fell into a fitful sleep, and the dog howled.
She awoke a few minutes before seven-thirty and listened intently. There wasn't a sound. When her alarm rang, Alyssa groaned and rolled out of bed. She made her way to the bathroom. She did a double take as she walked past Collin’s bed. He wasn’t there. Before panic had time to set in, her cell phone rang. It was her mother, making sure she was up to come take Collin to school. She could hear his excited little voice in the background. Puzzled, she said she’d be there shortly, and hung up the phone.
Alyssa scratched her head, then shrugged. She dressed quickly, then sat at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and puzzling. Convinced it must have been a dream, she checked to be sure she had her purse and keys and headed out the door. She pulled away from the house at eight-twenty-seven. At eight-thirty, the dog howled.
An hour later, Alyssa ushered her four year old son Collin to the car. The dog looked at them and howled. Alyssa looked at her watch. Eight-thirty. She cocked her head to one side and rethought her earlier conclusion. No, not a rooster. The dog is a grandfather clock, chiming on the half-hour. Maybe he’s set wrong. She drove the few miles to the preschool building and had her usual morning chat with the teacher before heading off to the grocery store.
She was pulling the few bags of groceries out of the car when the dog howled at her. She eyed her watch. Ten-thirty. He’s impeccable. Her watch was set to the atomic clock at work. It was the exact number of hours and minutes from Greenwich Mean Time as their little town had been calculated to be. The dog is an anomaly.
Alyssa put away her groceries and fired up her computer for her daily checkup on her writing. She typed out a short story and was just rereading it when the dog howled again. She checked her watch. Eleven-thirty. Thanks, dog. She saved her work and went into the kitchen to get some lunch.
Her hunger assuaged, Alyssa lay down on the couch to take a quick catnap. Working until eleven at night and getting up to get her son to school every morning had caught up to her this week. She hadn’t quite fallen asleep when the dog’s high-pitched howl assailed her ears. She looked at her watch. Twelve-thirty. She sat up. He’s an alarm clock, too. She returned to the computer to work on her story.
Finally edited and posted, the story looked just as appealing as Alyssa’d hoped it would. She saved it and shut down the computer, then flipped on the television. The dog reminded her it was one-thirty and she would soon need to go get Collin. She was glad to be off today. The mind numbing fatigue wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t have to use her mind. She checked that she had her purse and her keys and headed off to the car.
Collin’s typical after school antics made it two-thirty when they got home. The dog howled. Alyssa ignored it. She’d gotten tired of checking her watch every time the thing made its hideous noise, and Collin’s boundless energy and strings of questions were giving her a headache. Collin turned to look at the dog, and she nearly tripped over him. Alyssa whirled and glared at the dog. It looked like it was laughing at her. She grabbed Collin by the shoulder of his coat and pushed him into the house.
Alyssa tried to concentrate on the cartoon Collin was watching, but she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she got from looking at the dog. At three-thirty, the dog howled. Alyssa lay on the couch with a pillow over her head. At four-thirty, the dog howled. Her husband Nick came in the door from work and asked about the howling dog. He was used to the seven-thirty wake up call, but he’d never heard it howl like that any other time of day. Alyssa told him about the hourly howling. Nick was intrigued. At five-thirty, the dog howled. Nick didn’t seem to notice.
Collin and Nick were playing Matchbox cars on the living room floor when the dog howled at six-thirty. Nick looked at Alyssa. She stood up from her position on the couch and went to the door. The dog was looking in her direction. She shook herself. The dog was giving her the creeps.
At seven-thirty, Collin was in the bathtub. The dog howled. Alyssa and Collin began singing songs to drown out the howl. At eight-thirty Collin was asleep in his bed after a round of lullabies, and the dog howled. At nine-thirty, Nick and Alyssa were huddled on the couch watching a Bond flick, and the dog howled. At ten-thirty, Alyssa was putting her contact lenses into their case, and the dog howled. At eleven-thirty, as she and Nick were trying to make love, the dog howled. At twelve-thirty, Alyssa finally fell into a fitful sleep, and the dog howled.
She awoke a few minutes before seven-thirty and listened intently. There wasn't a sound. When her alarm rang, Alyssa groaned and rolled out of bed. She made her way to the bathroom. She did a double take as she walked past Collin’s bed. He wasn’t there. Before panic had time to set in, her cell phone rang. It was her mother, making sure she was up to come take Collin to school. She could hear his excited little voice in the background. Puzzled, she said she’d be there shortly, and hung up the phone.
Alyssa scratched her head, then shrugged. She dressed quickly, then sat at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and puzzling. Convinced it must have been a dream, she checked to be sure she had her purse and keys and headed out the door. She pulled away from the house at eight-twenty-seven. At eight-thirty, the dog howled.