by Stanley Lieber

Alpha’s life had changed, since the transaction.

Slinking with tired paws over the glossy pink floor his marbled skin, still tender, adjusted slowly to the low light.

Ship life.

Alpha had stuck around for the good luck.

Forget Zuckerberg, these pirates had taken him in, taken care of him. Food always right there on the plate. Simple and plain.

His men.

Had lasted at most a month. One by one, fallen to the accelerated tempo. Some without a hint of warning.

All gone, now.

Alpha had persevered. Branded. The blade over the heart. They had said.

His skin itched. Pink.

Where did they want him to sit?

Careful of the scar.