With each step he became more and more irritable. He ignored all the inquisitive looks on all the vacant faces that seemed to suddenly line the streets.
A baker took some photos. He knew the man was a baker due to the flour and sugar on his sleeves, an egg stain on his shirt (probably from having a half-apron at work) and some melted chocolate on his shoes. God, he needed a case.
The cute little creature (this admittance was loathsome) never wavered in her pace. The odd gait suggested her left hind leg was weaker than the others, but it was so slight he doubted anyone actually noticed. With growing annoyance it reminded him of John and when they had first met - Afghanistan or Iraq? Then, she started to hum. For some inexplicable reason he began to recall John typing up his blog.
Finally he stopped and he felt the creature's nose slightly on his clothing fabric. The mean part of him was bitterly disappointed she hadn't rammed her stupid cute nose into his leg. The rest of him was reliev