a short story about the wolf at the bottom of my garden – Katy Naylor

It is said that at the end of all things a wolf will swallow the sun.

No-one knows exactly when, but the story goes that when the time comes, the wolf will finally break the chains that have kept its jaws bound shut and fulfill its destiny.

It’s like sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool. Light and sound distant and distorted.

My lungs scream for air and I long to break for the surface.

I think about the weight of the water. I am heavy as a lead idol, when it should be the easiest thing in the world to float.

It gets dark earlier and earlier these days. A shadow that presses down into the corners of the kitchen and gouges deep tracks across the living room floor.

It would only take a single spark to lift the gloom, but for that I’d have to find a match. Maybe I’ll sit here a while longer.

Outside my window I can hear breathing and the soft scrape of metal, link on link.