David stepped through the door and made a beeline for the fridge. He didn’t take off his shoes. Didn’t drop his bag. Didn’t say a word.

  Lobo padded in behind him, tail wagging with hope until it wasn’t. He tilted his head, watching—waiting—for the usual pat or scratch behind the ear. It didn’t come.

  David yanked the fridge open. The beer hissed as he cracked it. He drank fast—too fast—and crushed the can flat with a single squeeze. It clattered into the sink, metal on porcelain.

  Lobo sat by the kitchen threshold, eyes wide. He didn’t beg this time. He just watched.

  Another beer. Gone just as quick. Then a third, sloshing as it left the fridge. David’s grip slipped, but he caught it. Barely.

  He leaned on the counter, breath ragged. The world pitched sideways, and he closed his eyes to hold it still.

  The phone rang.

  A sharp, shrill note. Too loud for the silence. He stumbled toward it, hands scrabbling in the drawer like he’d forgotten how fingers worked. After a few false swipes, he unlocked the screen and played the message.

  Francis's warm, welcoming tone carried a hint of concern. "It's me again. I'm just calling to see if I can prod you to the meeting tonight. Give me a call when you get off work and I'll come by and pick you up. Hope to hear from you, bye."

  David picked up the phone, his thumb hovering over the keypad. His breath hitched as he stared at it, then he dropped it back into the drawer.

  "I can't face Francis right now. What would I tell her? She'd be so ashamed of me... I lost my job... I'm not good enough..."

  He tossed the empty can aside and grabbed the case from the fridge. He walked over to the front room and sank into his chair. Lobo approached, tail wagging hopefully, but David was lost in his despair.

  His eyes drifted over to the picture of his kids on the shelf. The summer visit felt a lot further away now.

  "I'm a loser. I'm no good. My skills suck, and I'm no better than the white trash that gets paraded across daytime talk shows... I have no place to go...no one gives a shit about me."

  He drank himself into a stupor, each gulp a futile attempt to drown his sorrow.

  Hours later, David woke up in his bed, his head pounding and stomach churning. He rolled out of bed, the room tilted wildly as he staggered to the bathroom.

  Lobo, his expressive brown eyes filled with concern, followed closely.

  David retched into the toilet, the sound echoing in the quiet house. When it was over, he slumped to the floor, feeling the cool tiles against his flushed skin.

  The house pressed down on him. Only the hum of the air conditioner broke the oppressive silence.

  He glanced back over to his bedroom contemplating whether or not it was safe to return.

  A sliver of moonlight spilled through the window, reflecting off the mirror. The brightness made him wince.

  He squinted, trying to gather his thoughts. Lobo licked David's hand, his tail wagging vigorously, stirring up dust motes that danced in the light.

  David managed a weak smile while scratching behind Lobo's ears. The feeling of his scratchy fur brought David some comfort.

  "You need to go outside, boy? Let's go for a walk."

  The word "walk" made Lobo bark joyfully. Quivering with excitement, Lobo bounded off in search of his leash.

  David splashed cold water on his face, the shock helping to clear the fog in his mind.

  Panic gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the mundane task of finding the leash.

  He crossed the threshold into the bedroom when a faint, melodic laughter brushed past his ears—like wind through glass chimes. Shivers ran down his spine. "What in the hell is that...?"

  He turned slowly, eyes widening as he saw tiny glittering pixies dancing in the moonlight. They swirled in the pale beam, turning the dust into sparkling clouds.

  A large, wildly swinging black tail sliced through the moonbeam, scattering the pixies back into ordinary dust. A wet nose nudged his leg, followed by the clank of metal tags.

  David closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. When he opened them again, only an overly excited Labrador remained, growling and shaking his leash.

  David chuckled, giving Lobo's ears a firm rub. "You goofy dog, you damn near scared me to death!" He snapped the leash onto Lobo's collar.

  "Come on, let’s go," he said, letting himself be dragged toward the front door.

  The soft whisper of chimes faded into the silence of the house, drowned out by the closing door and Lobo's barking.

  David looked up into the night sky trying to pull in the fresh desert air to help him clear his mind. A sliver of moon hung high in the sky.

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  The moon offered little light, and David relied on the streetlights to see where he was going.

  Lobo led him down the street, eager and determined, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. "Let's go toward the bike trails tonight, boy. I don't really feel like dealing with traffic."

  Lobo understood. He veered toward a narrow, dark back street, and soon they left the city behind.

  As they entered the park, David's shoulders relaxed, and his steps grew lighter.

  Soft globes of light replaced the harsh glare of streetlights, creating an ethereal atmosphere. The moon cast delicate shadows on the cacti and plants, transforming them into ghostly silhouettes that swayed gently in the night breeze.

  David smiled, breathing deeply of the fragrant air, now tinged with the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers. The soft chatter of the canal washed over him with a calming effect. The desert breeze carried away his worries.

  Above, a nightingale's song wove through the rustling leaves and murmuring water. The park felt like a hidden realm, a place where the mundane world faded away, leaving only the magic of the night.

  Lobo stopped pulling once they crossed onto the path, sitting patiently for David to remove the leash. Free at last, Lobo darted off, nose to the ground in search of elusive ducks.

  David watched him, chuckling as the dog shoved his head through a patch of flowers, completely absorbed in his quest. For a moment, work and all its troubles were forgotten.

  A new sound joined the comfortably normal night sounds.

  A soft tinkling of tiny bells broke the reverie, and David looked around nervously. Lobo, still engrossed in his hunt, didn't react. David's heart raced as he searched for the source of the sound.

  He searched through the shadows and found nothing. He turned to the moonlit canal and blinked his eyes hard.

  "Holy crap," he whispered, rubbing his eyes. "I need sleep. Or maybe I finally cracked."

  Over the canal danced several tiny women, their bodies various shades of blue. They flitted above the water, their delicate feet creating glowing ripples without breaking the water's surface. Translucent fins of fine rose-colored mesh adorned their twig-like arms and legs. They danced and played, oblivious to David's staring.

  "Oh my God," David muttered. "I am watching little naked women dance over the canal. What is wrong with me?"

  "M’chroi,” came a voice like water in moonlight, lilting and old. “’Tis time thou opened thine eyes..."

  David's head spun, and he stumbled to a nearby bench, dropping onto it heavily. "Who's there? Who said that?"

  He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The dull throb of a headache was setting in. "I'm watching naiads dance over the canal, and I hear bodiless voices whispering to me... I've gone mad..."

  The trees around him spun, the air grew thick and difficult to breathe. David's eyes could focus only on the dancing naiads. The moonlight intensified, blindingly bright, and the air grew oppressively hot.

  The dark pressed in, swallowing the last of his thoughts.

  A cold, wet nose nudged David's hand, and a soft whine cut through the fog in his brain. A rough tongue licked his face, forcing his eyes open. The world was a blurry haze, dominated by a massive black blotch. As he stared, it sharpened into Lobo's worried face.

  David steadied himself against Lobo, using his dog's solid presence to regain his balance. "Oh, Lobo, what happened, doggie?" He scratched behind Lobo's ears, drawing comfort from the familiar sensation of the dog's fur against his skin.

  David glanced quickly at the canal, seeing only the moon-dappled water flowing by. The moon had shifted to a different part of the sky.

  Carefully, he stood, using the bench for support. His legs felt shaky, but they held. "Come, Lobo."

  He picked up the leash from where it fell to the ground. "Let’s get your leash back on."

  He looked at the canal. "We need to go home before the people in white coats come to take me away."

  The hasp clicked firmly onto Lobo's collar, and the dog started pulling them down the path toward the main street.

  David cast a furtive glance back at the canal, seeing nothing but the silver ribbon of water winding away. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and continued down the path.

  As they walked away, the soft tinkle of chimes echoed in the night, unheard. Tiny glowing ripples spread out on the surface, unseen.

  They were carried away by the current.

  Once safely inside the house, David ran to every room, turning on all the lights.

  Lobo followed, leash dragging behind, hopeful for a new game. Satisfied, David collapsed onto the sofa.

  "Whew, that'll do it. My eyes can't play tricks on me now."

  Lobo sauntered up and sat in front of David, looking at him expectantly.

  David smiled. "Oh, Lobo, I'm sorry. I forgot to take your leash off."

  He leaned forward. "Here, let me get that."

  The hasp came off, and the lights went out.

  "Oh crap..." David whispered, looking around blindly in the darkness.

  "What the hell is going on with the lights?"

  His eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight pouring in through the windows. Long, eerie shadows stretched across the floor.

  The soft rustle of leaves outside sounded like whispers, and the distant hum of a streetlamp buzzed in the background but it sounded more like a menacing growl.

  David's heart began to race, each beat echoed in the stillness of the house. The oppressive quiet amplified every creak and groan of the house.

  "Oh no, I don't need this, especially not now," he muttered, fear evident in his voice.

  He got up from the couch, the fabric rustling loudly in the silence, and walked tentatively toward the window by the front door. The wooden floorboards creaked under his weight, and he winced at each sound, half-expecting something to jump out at him from the shadows.

  Moonlight and stars dappled the deserted road outside. The trees swayed gently in the night breeze, their branches creating intricate patterns on the ground.

  Far off in the distance, a dog barked, the sound lonely and haunting.

  David's breath fogged up the glass as he peered out into the night. The street, usually so familiar, now seemed alien and unsettling.

  The silence was heavy, almost tangible, pressing down on him. He glanced around nervously, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow, each one seeming to pulse with hidden menace.

  The wind picked up, causing the leaves to rustle more fervently. A chill ran down David's spine as he noticed the shadows shifting, almost as if they were alive. He rubbed his arms, trying to dispel the goosebumps that had erupted on his skin.

  "Oh man, I really don't need this right now," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of the wind. He turned away from the window, the feeling of being watched creeping up his neck. Slowly, he walked toward the bedroom, the shadows followed him, their movements synchronized with his own.

  As he reached the bedroom door, he stopped to ensure the moonlight wasn't spilling in through the window.

  He hurried to the window and slammed the blinds closed, cutting off the eerie light and plunging the room into darkness.

  In near-pitch darkness, David threw off his clothes and pulled on his nightgown. Safely ensconced in satin, he leaped into bed, dove under the blankets, and covered his head.

  "There, now I can't see anything crazy, and maybe I can recover with a good night's sleep."

  Lobo padded in behind him, more slowly this time, and dropped onto the floor with a grunt.

  David smiled despite himself. Lobo was dependable—and tonight, thankfully, predictable.

  "Good night, Lobo," David whispered to his dog.

  He let the warmth of the blankets lull him. He pictured Lobo sprawled on his back, legs twitching in a dream, then chasing ducks through sunlit reeds. The last image to drift through his thoughts was a watchful wolfkin standing guard beneath the moonlight.