I expected snarling. Growling. Cerberus. But it had a pink bow.

Saw the neighbour in the corridor. With the dog.

Wasn’t planning to say anything, but she caught my eye and smiled. Not friendly.

I closed the distance. Pointed. “This barks a lot at night. Every night.”

“Does she?” Emphasis on she.

“It does.” Emphasis on it. “I can’t sleep. Every night.”

“Sorry,” she shrugged. “She’s nervous around men.”

We stood a moment. Nothing moved.

A close-up of a small white Maltese dog wearing a shiny pink satin bow. The dog's fur is soft and well-groomed, but its eyes are dark, intense, and slightly narrowed, giving it an unsettling, almost menacing expression.

I looked at it. Expected snarling. Growling. Cerberus. It was tiny. White. Pink bow. Scared.

“Come on, Princess.”

They walked off. It kept looking back, shaking. A bark.

Went to work straight after. Logged in. Made tea.

Kept replaying it. That shrug.

Princess.

Had another meeting with the Boss. Clicked through slides and let silence do the work.

Princess.

He said I seemed on it today.

“I’m focused.”

Princess.

Skipped lunch.

Am OK. I’m OK. I’m doing OK. Just tired.

It’s small. Fragile. Pathetic. Nothing.

It’s nothing.

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