It follows me
Meandering behind me like a lost hungry dog
I turn around and it lowers its head slightly
I keep walking, feeling it's stare
I go into a bakery, it waits outside
It looks lonely and hungry yet I'm afraid
Afraid of it hurting me
It looks gnarled and rough, grey around the edges
It won't leave me, it simply trails behind me
I ponder who it's owner is
I walk a few more blocks
Maybe it will leave
I turn around its still there
I wonder again who the owner is
I decide to find out
I feed it a piece of bread, all while feeling frightened that I might lose a finger
While it is occupied I peer at his collar
And what I see makes sense
Misery
My phone number