Seventy Times Seven - Prologue

    For my first "The Joy of Writing" blog post, I want to share with you the Prologue for "Seventy Times Seven". Of course, the purpose in doing this is to make you want to read the whole book. Here it is.

    The air was unusually still - almost stifling. The breeze off the ocean had disappeared. Stray dogs barked incessantly. The vendors' stalls stood vacant. Dark clouds blocked out the sun, casting grey shadows across the pavement.
           
     One of the stray dogs followed on her heels, stalking her. An ugly thing, its bones protruded with each movement and patches of skin showed through its mangy brown and white fur. Jaundiced eyes glowed like burning sulfur.

      "Go away," she said sternly.

      It kept following.

      She picked up a stick and threw it down the street. "Fetch," she hissed.

      It snarled with a low, deep growl.

     Stopping, she bent down and tried another tactic, "Nice dog, nice dog," she said, reaching her hand toward the creature.

     With slow, deliberate steps it began to circle her. Round and round it went, making it difficult to proceed further.

     "Help me!" she sobbed loudly, tears streaming down her face.

     No one heard and no one responded. 

     The dog began circling faster

   I must make my move now, she realized. Nearly tripping over the animal, she ran down the street, her legs wobbling. The dog's breath, like fire, burned her calves. 

    "Leave me alone!" she screamed as she raced up the walkway to her home. Her foot hit something hard and she plummeted to the ground. The dog's fangs bit into her flesh as it dragged her body like a rag doll. Blood gushed everywhere. She tried to get up but the animal knocked her down. Struggling, she thrust at the scruffy body with every ounce of strength she possessed.