The Fire Hydrant

It was on the bend of the sidewalk that took you to the beginning of the third avenue, and when looked at from the twenty fifth floor of the Ashen vale business park, it looked like a speck in the morning smog of the city. It was, as it stood, the last of it’s kind in the city, for every building now had its own fire fighting equipment and was well equipped with state of the art smoke detectors. The dogs which inhabited the cracks between two skyscrapers or the small alleys leading to the basements and repair chutes knew about it’s existence, it is easy if you like fire hydrants and the one near the third avenue is the only one you have.

The night was when they gathered around their prophet appearing through the labyrinth of concrete and glass. The winter is generally cold and full of snow flakes that swirl in small eddies in the deserted corners that are formed where buildings stand. The officials from the sanitation department had known of this hydrant and the pests it attracted in the dead of the shimmering night. They had their equipment ready, vans, nets, sedative guns, which is a handy tool in case they try to act nasty, all this was set at the ends of alleys which opened their mouths to the hydrant. One could see the officials in their blue uniforms ironed to perfection with their cuff buttons shining in the light of the few solitary windows that glow with the energy of a workaholic, with rigged leather boots all polished and hats with shiny rims. The canines emerge from the alleys in their hundreds and their eyes shine in the light of the siren of the dog van. Their number is more than what was expected, and they are coming from all the alleys that open to the hydrant, the sedative is not enough and neither are the nets, for what comes from the alleys is a pilgrimage to the fire hydrant.


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