Twisted, it lay there; I stared for a few minutes, my inwards bubbling. The head turned one-way, back legs another, the rest in pieces. Stomach crushed, intestines crushed, heart there, liver there, blood everywhere. A red collar with nametag; Spot, morbid in its irony. I looked one way down the street, empty, and the other, empty. The car had long gone, and the hollow face of the dog meant it all happened in a moment.

This image has haunted me for a few days now.