Short story

The windscreen wipers worked furiously to clear the glass from the driving rain. It was no use, he still couldn’t see, so he pulled into a side street and waited for the pelting sheet to ease. Flicking through the radio, a wavering squeal emerged, quickly changing into a fast beated pop song.  Jonesie, as he was called on the rank, shuffled lower into his seat and settled down to waited. Looking up to change the crackling station, he noticed a brown-coated figure huddling in the meagre shelter of a deserted warehouse. Jonesie studied the figure and decided, being a kind-hearted man, that he would try and do something to help.  As Jonesie neared, the brown-coated figure started to shift uneasily, looking up with fearful brown eyes.  “You look pretty cold out here, would you like to come and sit in my taxi till the rain eases off a bit?”, Jonesie asked sincerely. After waiting a bit and receiving no reply, Jonesie headed back for the warmth of the taxi. When he neared the car, he noticed someone behind him and turning around saw that the brown-coated figure had followed him to the car.  “So you decided to come then, eh mate?”, Jonesie queried heavily, as he helped the figure into the passenger seat.  Closing the door, Jonesie thought about what might happen to this poor guy. In the car, Jonesie changed the station yet again finding a country song he thoroughly enjoyed. After the song had finished, he flicked the radio off and turned to his bedraggled guest, noticing that his bones almost protruded through the coat.  “So, aye, where do you come from then mate?”, inquired Jonesie. “That’s if you don’t mind me asking?” His only reply was the turning of the brown-coated figures head, to stare wonderingly out into the menacing dark sky. Jonesie tried again, “Eh, um, what’s ya name then?” The brown-coated figure turned his head in the direction of Jonesie and blinked his fearful brown eyes in reply. Silence followed, Jonesie thinking of what he could do for his silent guest.  Jonesie flicked on the radio again, it crackled and hissed, and then resumed into some teenage trash.  “Come on mate, you must be starving. Lets take ya home and give ya some tucker”, Jonesie said.  The brown-coated figure did not move and his answer was only a deep sigh. The rain had eased and as they drove, the road glistened like oil. Jonesie had finished his shift, so there were no problems. When they got inside his house, Jonesie helped the figure to dry himself, but he never took his coat off.  Jonesie thought this a bit odd but made no further inquiries.  He prepared a meal and the brown- coated figure warmed himself in front of the blazing fire. Six months later, the brown-coated figure and Jonesie spend every night in the taxi, listening to the crackling radio and sharing long conversations with many pauses and deep sighs of reply. The fearful brown eyes are fearful no more and the ragged, tatty coat has been replaced by a thick, warm one. Jonesie and the brown-coated figure spend all their time together, after all, dogs are a mans best friend.

Who is the brown coated figure? Where is the brown coated figure? Why is the brown coated figure following him? What colour is the taxi? Why is he so boney? I wonder when the last time the person ate? Do we know what it is yet? How did the brown coated figure get there? Is it a dog? Did society depress this man? Has he worked himself to death? What is tucker? Why was the figure in a ware house and why was it there? Why did it not want to take its coat off? What is Jonesie’s job?

The dog Warehouse  Because he was lonely and hungry white/yellow/blue He hasn’t eaten A week maybe No Abandoned Yes People did not treat it right. Dog food It is fur Taxi driver