[ WP ] While riding on a train a magical dog starts speaking to you about the universe

I feel a damp tickle around my left ankle. 
 
 Dreading what I might discover, I reluctantly look down to find a skinny Yorkshire Terrier swaying casually with the motion of the train carriage. I attempt to shoo it with a wiggle of my foot but it is n't so easily dislodged. Finding sanctuary between my boots, it slathers my shin with saliva. 
 
 `` Shoo, get away!'' I grumble, a bit too feebly to command its attention - but I do n't want other passengers thinking I'm the kind of person who talks to himself on public transport... You know, those metro nomads, between homes and living out confusing odysseys in imagined worlds. 
 
 `` Shoo!'' A little louder this time. The mutt looks up at me, its eyes settling on my skew-whiff tie emblazoned with white tessellating chickens. I thought the design was a novel tribute to Escher. Looking at my reflection in the train window, I now realise it makes me look like a prick. 
 
 The dog drools. 
 
 `` Fuck off!'' A bit too loud this time. A woman at the front of the carriage, the only other passenger in here, spins around in her seat. Her oily black fringe is pasted to her forehead. Her eyes bulge - pinpoint pupils needling me from afar. 
 
 `` Oh sorry I - I was talking to the dog.'' She does n't seem placated. Her eyelashes quiver and her lips vibrate, eyes fixed firm on me in a death stare. 
 
 The world slides by outside the train carriage; rows of grey followed by chaotic green, punctuated with the occasional distant cow. The dog chews the hem of my trousers whilst I chew my lip. 
 
 With unnerving speed, the woman lurches off her seat and scurries towards me. She squats beside my knee and starts fumbling with the pocket of her brown burlap sack of a coat. She rasps, `` You've made a friend, Oscar.'' 
 
 At the sound of his name, Oscar's tail begins rhythmically slapping my leg. 
 
 `` Oh it's *your* dog!'' I exclaim with relief. I hope she drags the thing away into that bag she's wearing and leaves me and my shit tie in peace. 
 
 `` No. I do n't own Oscar. And Oscar does n't own me. We're allies.'' The lady has n't blinked yet. In fact, she has n't broken eye contact with me once. 
 
 I stare at the bridge of her nose. She pulls something out of her pocket and feeds it to Oscar. Something which looks a hell of a lot like a severed finger. 
 
 Fuck. 
 
 Only three more stops. Three more stops and I'm home... 
 
 The woman's mouth unravels into a wonky grin and she finally blinks. `` Oscar tells me things.'' 
 
 `` Oh? What kind of things? When I was little I had a pet hamster and I was *convinced* he was squeaking in Morse Code...'' 
 
 `` Oscar tells me secrets. Secrets he learnt from the labs.'' 
 
 `` The labradors?'' 
 
 `` No the *laboratories*. They kept him there. Since he was a puppy. They put things inside his head.'' 
 
 I look down at the dopey mutt. He looks up at me - then sneezes bits of gnarled finger on my shoes. 
 
 Two more stops... two more stops and I'm home. 
 
 `` What kind of things did they put in there?'' I play along. 
 
 `` Machinery... Cogs and springs. If you put your ear against his scars you can hear a clock tick-ticking. If you push his tummy you can feel the motors humming. If you hold his paw he speaks to you.'' 
 
 `` He's like Frankenstein's poodle?'' 
 
 She does n't seem amused. 
 
 `` Go on. Hold his paw and he'll tell you a secret.'' 
 
 I lean down. Oscar gazes up at me eagerly, his tail battering my boots in anticipation. A vein on the woman's temple is throbbing with equal fervour. I put out my hand, and in perfect unison, he extends a paw. I lean in closer, clutching his furry little foot, his hot breath tickling my ear. 
 
 In a gruff, Sheffield accent, Oscar whispers: `` The universe is made up of two things. Positive and negative. Friend and foe. Everything around us is in a state of constant flux precisely because these two opposing forces can not coexist peacefully. A cascade of energy, vibrating violently through space and time, forms every inch of us and every thought of us. We are defined by this binary system - we can not escape it. In fact, we are it. But perhaps some of us are more one than the other. More positive, more negative, more friend, more foe. Which one are you?'' 
 
 I swallow, but my mouth is too dry for it to make a difference. The dog. It speaks. And I just missed my stop. Fuck. 
 
 `` I asked you a question. Which one are you? Friend? Or foe?'' 
 
 `` Oh uh... Well I have to say I'm... I'm positively buzzing with positive energy. Ask anyone. My chakras are in alignment with Pisces and my third eye is gushing with life. I am most definitely a friend.'' 
 
 Oscar's glassy eyes flicker to me as he hisses: `` Unfortunately - I am not.'' 
 
 I feel a jolt of pain in my hand. He's bitten my fucking finger off! 
 
 I'm squirting blood graffiti as I stumble out of my seat. The woman is cackling and doing a jig, causing the loose change in the trenches of her coat to jingle like she's Morris dancing. Oscar is yelping and hopping, my finger lost in that pit of cogs and springs. 
 
 The train is moving and I'm stuck. Stuck with this bitch and this dog and all this blood. So much blood. I feel a little woozy. I think I need to... lie... down.... 
 
 *thud*
