Instinct, Part 7 : A Dog Named Ogue

I’ve been practically living in this motel for a while. Funny, how a 32 years old man decided to ran away from house.

She has never think about the cheap smell on my motel, she will come almost every night to my motel. Some of the night, if we’re not that tired yet, we’re gonna hit the chair and we’ll be talking about atom, superhero until Elon Musk under influence of alcohol.

This night is that some of night.

“I have a dog,” I tell the wicked bitch. “A shiba inu. A fat one, my dog is.”

“Where is your dog now?”

“House.” I stopped blinking, I think thinking my house is still painful.

“I like dogs. Bring that one for me to see.”

“Nonsense.”

“Really?” she is raising her eyebrows, smiling wickedly, “Then we won’t have fun till you bring your dog.”

“Sorry, miss?”

“Don’t you think that’ll be fun?”

“What will?”
“The dog.”

“Ha. I won’t come back to my house and bring Ogue here just because you tell me to.”

Here comes her irrational giggles, she snog me and says, “Ogue? Cute name.” She whisper to me, “I. Want. To see it.” She is snogging me again, and leaving me there, drunk and confused.
I think she is not joking, it has been two weeks yet she hasn’t come. She left because she wanted to see a dog.

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