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Chapter 1
By 5 in the evening that Sunday, Sam had decided what he would do. His sister was
expected at any moment with her puppy, Donald (the dog that he hated) and he was
ready to face her because now was the time.
The doorbell rang.
The doorbell was followed by Donald’s barking… two short sounds. Something that
sounded in-between a dog’s sneeze and a bark, but did dogs sneeze too, like
humans, what I am thnking, Sam thought to himself.
The doorbell rang again.
Sam shrugged his shoulders as if it was not his job to open the door to the house,
even though no one else stayed with him in his house. He crossed the living room for
the entrance, lobby.
His hand on the latch, he took two deep breaths and moved towards the door.
‘What took you so long?’ She gave him a cold look.

Chapter 2
His sister brushed past him as if she owned the house and Donald, tucked under her
arms, gave him a look that Sam would give to a street dog. 'What is this stink, Sam?
Have you been drinking again?’
His sister was in the living room. She had placed Donald on the carpet and the three-
month-old Dachshund was moving about smelling the furniture. Last time, the dog
had peed and was now probably looking for that same spot. Outside it was pleasant
and cold wind was blowing from the east.
‘I asked you something.’
Sam changed his attention from Donald to his sister. It is time, he should put his plan
into action now. He had prepared every word. ‘Sis…’
‘Don’t give me that look. I’m ashamed of you. Look at you. You look sick. You don’t
have a job, no money, and no friends. Why can’t you change, Sam?’
‘Sis—’
‘I don’t want to listen to anything. I want my money back.’
‘I will give it to you.’
‘I want it now or I am calling the police.’ She gave him a cold look.

Chapter 3
Hearing the name of the police, suddenly Donald started to bark. That same
something in-between a sneeze and a bark. Only louder, this time.
Donald was picked up by Natasha. Then she spoke to the pup, ‘I love you, honey. A
dog is a man’s best friend, they say. We need to get out of here.’
With that, she marched to the door.
Sam remained rooted to where he was. He was feeling worse, but he knew it was all
his fault.
Sam only wanted his sister to hear him out. He wanted to say to her that in his will he
was leaving this house for her. That it would cover the money he had borrowed from
her. That he had only a few days left to live. That he was thankful she raised him all
by herself after their parents died even though she was just eight years older then
him. That he was sorry.
He sat down on the carpet and slept. When he woke up three hours later, there was
an odd smell hanging in the air. It hit him at that instant. Donald had peed. The smart
bastard had done it again so quietly that Sam didn't notice. Neither his sister. But
even if she did, she wouldn’t have cared. According to her, Donald’s pee smelled
better than Sam’s bottles.
Eh, alcohol Sam whispered excitedly, the smell of pee forgotten, and ambled
towards the bar that stood in one corner. He touched the cold bottle, opened the
bottle, and inhaled its smell deeply. The label read: drinking alcohol is dangerous for
health.
He laughed, sure that even if he drank all day, the alcohol wouldn’t kill him. The
disease he was suffering from, would. He drank straight from the bottle and felt
calmer within a few minutes.
Just then his eyes moved to the window. Outside the house, it had started to drizzle,
and Sam’s thoughts were pulled towards the time when his wife lived with him.
Those days were so beautiful, she was so beautiful, her hair long and thick, her
height above six feet. He regretted that things hadn’t worked out well for them in the
long run. But it was all her fault. Why did she leave me? He thought to himself. It was
so painful for him to live without her.

Chapter 4
The next Sunday, it was raining since early morning. Natasha got a call at nine in the
morning. It was an unknown number and right at the same time, Donald started to
bark. It was his time to be taken out. She ignored the call and started to walk him to
the neighbouring estate. The call came in again within five minutes. It was the same
unknown number and this time; she took the call.
‘Hello! Is it Natasha Dsouza? I’m calling from New Morning hospital.’
‘Yes, that’s me.’
What does she want? Call from a hospital? Why?
The weather was beautiful and from where she was, Natasha could see Gulmohar
trees in full bloom. The red flowers against the blue sky made a fantastic contrast,
one that Natasha never failed to appreciate. The leaves had almost been shed and it
was as if the tree was on fire, a fire in which there was no heat, just beauty. She
could still hear the sounds of the cars zipping past but the sight calmed her down.
Donald started to bark and she looked down to see if he was all right. He had
stopped and was now looking at her with a cold expression. Natasha stopped too,
‘What’s your problem?’
‘Madam, I’m sorry?’
‘Oh, sorry, no no, not you, I was talking to the dog.’
‘Okay. I’m sorry to inform you that we did all that we could, but Sam is no more.’
‘What? Which Sam?’
‘Isn’t Sam your brother?’
‘Yes, he is. But…’
‘You must have known that he was suffering from final stage cancer. I am sorry, we
tried hard, but we couldn't save him.’
Natasha sat down by the side of the road. Her head was rotating. Donald stopped
brking and began to lick her hands.
The funeral was decided for six in the evening the next day. When Sam was being
lowered wearing the suit she had gifted him ten years ago—he had insisted in his
will—Natasha was inconsolable.
She put her hand in Sam’s pocket and found what she was looking for. A bar of 5-
star chocolate, her favourite. Sam knew she would look for it in his pockets like she
always did when they were kids.
And he never forgot to get her the chocolate.
As she pulled out her hand, a paper slipped out from the pocket. She picked it up. All
it said was, “I’m sorry, sis. I tried my best to tell you but failed. And I still don’t like
Donald.”
Donald was quiet.