(Story title by Connor Coyne)
Fire streaked across the night sky; thunder followed. Julie watched its path and did some mental math. Mr. Smith just barked and ran off the sidewalk.
Julie tightened her grip on the leash and informed the pooch, “I think it might’ve landed in Krizal Park.” Mr. Smith didn’t seem to know what to do with that information, but was happy just to walk to the end of the block.
Julie turned left; Mr. Smith turned right. The leash lost all slack. “This way,” she said, but the Wire Fox Terrier was equally insistent. Julie walked toward the dog, grabbing the leash along the way like she were Adam West climbing the side of a building. When she reached its end, Julie picked up Mr. Smith, held him against her hip, and walked to Krizal Park. Mr. Smith was annoyed by his lack of agency, but knew that there was no arguing with Julie when she got like this.
“Behave, and I’ll give you some mayo later,” she said, knowing his favorite.
A crowd had already gathered at the park by the time the pair arrived. Julie set Mr. Smith to his feet and moved behind some children to see what the commotion was about.
There, in the side of the sledding hill, was a small crater. A faint purple glow emanated from within, and as Julie stopped and stared, a viscous yellow liquid dripped down the side of the hill.
Mr. Smith slipped his collar and ran towards the ooze.