Toothy Grin

Today, around 3 PM, a pup died in Jwagal. Something or somebody broke the dog's leg a couple of days back, I was told by a shopkeeper who had seen it limp about in the morning. When I left work around 6:30 to head home, I saw it lying near a closed gate. Dead. It couldn't have been more than six months old. Black, street mongrel. A female.

The heat had already started shrinking its snout and puffing out its belly: it looked almost in bliss, a full belly and recalled lips showing a row of teeth in a yet friendly grin.

One more day, and the gums will become exposed. Then the sharp teeth with look more sinister.

But, a dead animal just seems like the more perfected, finest crafted thing devoid only of--what else--life.