The Weird Fishes
The morning air was thick with smog and smoke which was rising in curls from the dried out, yellow hill side. In a fitting way there were small, pin-point rain droplets dropping from the gloomy clouds, as if to extinguish the flames the fire fighters failed to put out. Dalmatians leapt about the hills and rushed about the rubble of fallen complexes and small beach-side homes, thrilled with the full-filament of their assigned duties.
Gentry could no longer keep the smile from his face; an expression that seemed unnatural and to pain him slightly to sincerely produce, but there all the same. The brown dog watched the spotted white animals from his back seat in the worn out car, as they worked along the road-side where the fires threatened to brim the road and over take the important passage of pavement that kept so many peoples busily bustling toward work and then back again.
The dock, to Gentry, was the gate to Heaven, and at it's end was his noble cherubim, his own chariot of fire. The vessel itself was small and bobbed in it's place along the dock in a wobbly manner, but it would do, it would float and float far. Gentry climbed the railed draw-bridge, the metal stinging his warm hands with rust and chilled steel, the brown dog cautiously proceeding after him. The draw-bridge was carefully dragged aboard the small craft, the craft then promptly untied. Gentry thought of it as unleashing a grand German shepherd dog upon a fleeing victim, the victim in this instance being the withered man who'd in more respectable times been his employer. Gentry was momentarily still with his guilt, he'd stolen money, though not in a direct way. He'd stolen from the withered man, the smoking man, and he would steal more if he continued with his plans. Someone would have to pay for the boat, for the repairs, for the time spent and for the gasoline. Gentry lifted his glance toward the boat's side before he even realized that he had heard something. There had been a creaking noise and a very distinct sound of something entering the waters near the dock. Gentry quickly searched about the boat, abandoning the rope which enabled the sea-craft to slowly begin it's drifting into the center of the harbor. His thoughts were of the dog, who was found peering over the edge of a rail-less portion of the boat. The draw-bridge had slipped from it's place and dropped into the water, quite likely where it would remain near the dock.
Gentry pulled the animal back slightly from the edge before backing up himself, it wasn't important, not now. He entered the captain's quarters to escape the rain, and with the brown dog he began his slow and silent progression into the sea.