“Ok, look,” she cast a furtive glance at the dog’s phantasmagoric figure, still clutching the sandwich as if it were the only thing holding its existence to the mortal plane. “Buddy. I don’t want to be here, to do this, do that. You don’t want me to be here either, doing this, doing that. The necromancy job listing says we’re both wrong.”
The dog whined almost instinctively, its will irrelevant to its eventual fate.
“C’mon, spill the juice. The dead are only here because they hold a grudge on some poor sucker who’s still alive. What’s your story?” The girl adjusted her Rolex, a feature entirely uncharacteristic with the black cultist robe that cloaked her figure. “Hurry up. McCafe closes at 10 AM.”
The road by the graveyard was idly silent even in the early throes of the morning, the course of the wind through a sad row brittle oaks the only melody that kept the girl company in absence of the dead that usually roamed about the graves. Couldn’t blame them. ‘My kind and good…and dead sir, could I kill- excuse me- separate the terrible shackles that tie you to the mortal plane and send you on a grand trip to heaven?’. Nah, wouldn’t work. No amount of exposition about the greatness of the big boy in the sky could convince these sorts of people to go, those who voluntarily chose to stay amidst the living to spite them. To them, the girl was but a reaper of souls, a murderer that stole their chance of fulfilling their grudge.
“Ugh.” Dog spit dribbled onto the feeble surface of the bread. It wasn’t physically real, so the sandwich held its shape, sucking up drool like a bottomless sponge. Still disgusting. “Look, Mister-Dog-Sandwich, for lack thereof of a better name, I am fully aware that I am still on the clock. However, if I do not consume a caffeinated beverage within two hours, I will soon enter a state of perpetual comatose. Then your soul will be stuck here for real.”
The dog stopped whimpering and its level gaze began to show a degree of understanding. Finally… this would be an hour or so, tops. “No, I don’t wish for that.”
Entirely unfazed by the linguistic abilities of the canine that would have heralded a scientific breakthrough in the realm of comparative psychology, the girl crouched down until her eyes were square with the dog.
“Talk.”
“Uh-”
“Talk.”
Through a mouth full of sandwich, the dog grunted in disbelief. “Listen girl, new hires don’t exactly get to bitch us around for free like this. I’m willing to accommodate your callousness to a certain degree, through the kindness of-”
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The glow of a blue orb secreted from within the fold of the girl’s black robe shone menacingly amidst the scant rays of the morning sun. “Listen here… Dog Sandwich. You’re a dog. I think that makes sure you understand power dynamics more than anyone here.”
If dead dogs could gulp, then Dog Sandwich gulped.
“Ok, madam, you don’t have to go there.”
“Then hurry up and talk. If the McCafe closes, I’ll have to go to Starbucks, and I’m not going to financially recover from that.”
“What? Ok. Look, give me a moment.” The girl glared, patience worn to the last thread, and the dog whimpered. “Look, it was the girl. Everything was because of the girl. It all started from there, you hear me?”
The girl played with the hem of her robe. “I love the part where I actually get to understand what you’re talking about.”
“Alright, you know dogs. We have to treat humans good and stuff. So kids, right? Its kind of like culture amidst us, but we can’t treat them bad at all, not at all. Actually diabolical, and when I get to heaven I’m going to tear the dog that started that stereotype to pieces-”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible orator? Oh, right. You’re a dog.”
“The family I was with didn’t really give me that much to eat, you know. Crap that came in a burlap sack, they didn’t even bother forking over twelve dollars at Woolworths for those bags with the photos of the smiling dogs on it. You know, so I could at least quell my misery looking at it.”
“Oh, poor you. Life must’ve been tough.” Her voice was sickly sweet, faker than the bones in a Kardashians’ face. Dog Sandwich was unfortunately a dog, and lapped it up.
“Exactly. That girl, I swear to whatever deity represents dogs up there-”
"Artemis.”
“Well, Artemis would understand when I tell you that sandwich was so goddamn big that she was going to choke on it. Poised to down it in one bite. I saw that, and snatched it up, saved her life. Fine, maybe I was a little hungry. But…but I really wasn’t taking it to eat it on purpose, it was all for her…”
The girl cursed, wondering how many times she had heard ‘for her’ over the time on this job.
“Look, I really thought I saved her, ok? I didn’t even eat the damn thing, see?” Dog Sandwich frantically gestured to the food implement that rimmed his mouth. “I saved her, and they treat and think of me like this. I was put down, you know? The week after.”
A pause. “That sucks.”
“Exactly. I know, right? I was only trying to do what was right, and they sully my image-”
“No, like, you died because of a sandwich. Isn’t that lame?”
The dog sighed a long, saddened sigh, before looking up to the sky. “Maybe you’re right. It wasn’t really the girls fault, you-”
Dog Sandwich eyed the girl ruefully, but with a slight smile. “Never mind. It’s ok. Send me up.”
“Your wish is my desire.”
Within the dawning of the sun, Dog Sandwich’s pale figure shimmered for only a second before shattering, the pure soul of a good dog glittering in its million, little pieces as it floated up away from the cruelty of an unjust world.
The girl checked her watch, walking away towards the main street. “Dog was right there. Humans aren’t really the nicest beings…” She sighed. “An extra dollar just for cream on my coffee? Tis’ a crime.”