Free Roadkill TUEBL Edition by Leonard Kirke

Three
    The Dog, at a loss for any sense of purpose, and seeing
nothing further to be gained from examining his remains, began traveling in the
same direction as before. It was a clear night, and the stars were shining brightly
above him. He didn't know where he was going, but he felt compelled to resume
his earlier course. He had no better idea of where to go or what to do, so
heading in his original direction made as much sense as anything.
    The Dog was now much more cautious every time a car passed.
His eyes divided their time between the forest and the road on either side of
him, snapping back to the highway each time an engine's roar could be heard in
the distance. Suddenly, a shrub next to him began rustling. He jumped back and
hunkered down in a defensive, attack-ready position, when a Skunk emerged from
the bush. Like the Dog, the Skunk was a glowing, transparent specter, the color
of moonlight.
    "WHOA! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" the Dog demanded.
    " Eep !" the Skunk
squeaked, "I just wanted to say hi!" The Skunk's voice reminded the
Dog of a little girl for some reason.
    "Say HI? I just DIED!" The Dog, who spoke like a
young man, sounded offended at the Skunk's casual tone.
    "I know, I saw it. It was awesome!" The Skunk
realized at once how callous this sounded and began to correct herself. "I
mean, not awesome, just...incredible. It was like watching a surfer wipe out.
You must've rolled like ten times! It was nuts! I've never seen anything like
it!"
    The Dog was stunned at the Skunk's excited babbling about
his own demise. Regaining his composure, the Dog's voice became sarcastic.
    "I'm glad you enjoyed it so much." Irritated, the
Dog began to walk away, ignoring the Skunk as she scurried after him.
    "Hey! I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean that to sound, you
know...unconcerned, or anything. It's just, that wasn't something you see every
day, or at least I don't, and...I died earlier tonight myself, and...I don't
really...you know, I don't really have anyone to talk to..."
    The Dog merely grunted and, continuing to ignore the Skunk,
kept walking. The Skunk, still apologetic and guilty, tried again.
    "Listen, really, I hope you're not too offended. I
mean, it sucks that we died, but we're fine now, right?"
    This caught the Dog's attention. He stopped, looked up at
the moon and began to think about the situation more clearly.
    "Huh...I...I guess we are." His voice was
uncertain, becoming cautiously optimistic. "Sorry for being so grouchy
before. I'm just not used to...." The Dog let out a quick, nervous laugh.
"Dying."
    "Me neither," replied the Skunk. "Actually, I
was feeling pretty lonely before I found you. Would you mind...I mean, would it
be a burden or anything if I, you know, tagged along?"
    "Not at all," the Dog answered, sounding much
happier than before. "I hadn't really thought about it, but now that you
mention it, I think I could use some company myself."
    The Skunk smiled and trotted alongside the Dog, and they
spoke of how nice the weather was, and how strange the night had been, and both
were feeling much better now that they had someone to talk to.

Four
    As the Dog and the Skunk walked on towards the city, not
fully aware of their destination, a sad sight caught their attention. Much like
the Dog had been earlier, the corpse of a possum was sprawled out lifeless in
the middle of the road.
    "Poor guy..." murmured the Skunk with pity in her
voice, "I wonder what got him?"
    "Maybe the same truck has been running over all of us
tonight," the Dog spoke quietly.
    "I wonder where he ran off to? After he got hit, I
mean. Maybe he's lonely, like us." The Skunk was concerned. She is an
empathetic soul, the Dog thought to himself. He sought to reassure her, the way
he would comfort an upset child.
    "I'm sure he'll manage. After all, we've done a great
job of recovering from the shock of what is probably the most frightening thi -"
    Before the Dog could finish, he was cut off by the sound of
a piercing otherworldly shriek as