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The Caged, a short story written by Maria McCarthy, is a story that is really helpful, amazing and interesting to read. You love to read this…

THE CAGED

The sleeping dog barked all day. When the neighbors’ car pulled out that evening, Elaine went out to take a quiet word, a supposed word, but when it came to that, the words were loud and angry.

Why keep a dog? Why make it a garden cage? Why do they torture day-to-day, animals, and so on? ‘Do you want us to keep it, then?’ Edward’s wife, Josie, said as he drove his daughter home. ‘No, not at all,’ said Allen, ‘but there may be someone who likes a dog. Someone who will take care. ‘Edward climbed on top of him, came close, and then turned around to open the case for a clog of boots. ‘If you don’t like it, go away.’ Move? Was he not the owner of the house and they are renting it? She’ll call their landlord, that’s what she’ll do, as soon as she calms down.

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Meanwhile, the peeling had stopped. Bad dog Bad Max. He was so cute when he was allowed out of his cage and into the garden.

Josie or Lisa, too, used to do this when the Edward arrived. Max will be grabbing Allen’s hand with a sloping barbed wire with his sliding tongue as he offers her his palm. He may have thought to kidnap Max, drag him to the barbed wire, take all his many rocking stones, and take him to a shelter, but he heard that some of the dogs were happy that they couldn’t keep them. And of course Edwards will doubt his role in Max’s disappearance. Josie, she was right; she would take care of Max better if it weren’t for the sleepwalking, and Lisa’s point, a teen’s noise through thin walls was not natural.

Allen imitated her beautiful wings and was ‘walking. It was a joke until he heard her, so he put her performance in the kitchen, where the walls were thick. The two houses were painted glass mirrors; back to the kitchen, the bedroom extends downward in opposite directions from the bedroom upstairs to the bedroom.

The wall was only one brick thick, except for the kitchen. Allen discovered this when his builder accidentally knocked a hole in the wall of his bedroom, and daylight shone in the Edward home.

Not wanting to face him, Elaine moved the detective to apologize for his promise to heal the builder. She could hear the whole exchange through the wall. ‘I have enough,’ cried Edward, ‘it’s all noisy.

You can steal from it. ‘Minutes later, Josie called the garden fence. ‘All this happens … unless you straighten it out.’ He smiled at the builder, arranging a time for him to work. ‘My husband, he doesn’t mean it; she is, indeed, a chocolate. ‘No one can imagine the least of this.

However, after being quiet while he was at home, he remembered the lion, roaring when he wanted to show his power. He wished Edward’s death, and there were moments when it seemed like he might be strapped to his chest. He looked so purple and soaked that he could be hung up and the juice dropped, and he had difficulty walking. Then he found out that his bits were descending. Toes. He had a wound that was not healed. Sugar, Josie told him. You had to take care of your feet with him. You also have to pay attention to your diet, and Elaine couldn’t imagine imagining her gnawing on bean sprints and tap water. ‘They call it the silent killer,’ Josie said. She was washing herself three days after leaving the hospital. Sleep loss of the neck was accompanied by a hysterectomy.

Allen protested that he should not do the homework, he should have his feet. ‘I’m fine,’ said Josie. ‘Lisa took out the basket for me.’ Allen had seen that smile before, made sure to tell himself that everything was fine. She was wearing a spaghetti-strapped top and leggings. His face was made to walk down the garden. Such a beautiful woman, her body round but attractive in all the right places; Such a garbage, tied to a man, Edward broke out of the back door, tied his foot and sustained himself with a walking stick. ‘Get in, good,’ he said. ‘That cup of tea will be ready.’

The next morning, Ellen opened her bedroom curtain and saw Josie in her garden below, wearing a pink-hearted envelope dressing gown and smoking. His smile was absent, with no one to heal. For a moment, away from home – just yards away – away from his wings and smoking and swearing,

On New Year’s Eve everyone was silent as Alan went to sleep. In other years, the neighborhood. Forced to attend the party, he noticed that they were married and had arrived for each other at midnight. It was much more than that to look at, or another drunk, to be drunk by an alcoholic.

Once, when the fashion was about to fire, as the years changed, parties from various exhibitions wandered down the street to watch the show, and Nick, the 56th, took her in as the midnight bell rang. He had been arguing with her for months, after his divorce, and that night, on New Year’s Eve, he took her to a party and took her for a slow dance, keeping her close to the pornographic.

He reacted with all the passion of an ironing board, and he never bothered him. But it was his old neighbors. When she was still in which the lawyers very fondly called marriage.

This New Year’s Eve, she slept during the changing times of the year. It was dark when she woke up, except for the green numbers on her daughter, 03.15. An raft, as if a corpse had hit a wall in the bedroom next door, a whirlpool, as if pleading, a chill, then a silence. They are open with their eyes open, fingers pointing to the duvet. She was wondering what to let things go, now it was quiet, but she could not be with herself if there had been a horrific event.

She got up in the kitchen to make a call, so that she could not hear. Was this an emergency? Yes. 999. She was shaking while dialing the number. It will be some time, the operator said. The police were very busy. There is no doubt that there were hundreds of such calls, violence at home, street fighting.

Alan made chamomile tea and sat down on the couch. He waited for the police to arrive. She will see the lights of their vehicle through the screen; Listen to them knocking on the front door. But no headlines, no knocks and no sounds were heard on the other side of the wall. She pulled a blanket with her on the couch and fell into a deep sleep. Did the police come in and find no reason to sign a dark and quiet house? Maybe they didn’t come at all. Then he saw Josie with the dog late in the morning.

She wasn’t even close enough to see any injured a black eye.

He was alive, at least. Noise, then silence – which was difficult to take. The silence was more terrible in some ways. When Elaine returned a few days later, the dog’s cage was lying in pieces, bent against a brick wall in the neighbors’ garden. The curtains were pulled out the front door, closed for a few days and weeks. For a while, he was disturbed when a car exited slowly, or when he heard a knock on the letter box in the front door of the house, just saw the doctor walking in the street. And then she became convinced that the neighbors were not coming back, that she had found a peaceful life when she had left the village. He started changing television.

At times, he sang to himself, or talked back to the presenters on the radio. It gave a glimpse of the company; there was someone else in the house. When she called her sons, she would often go out, or go to meetings or go to the tunnels, get lost in reception at obstacles, as she encouraged them to do when they were older. Did. They said they would call her back, but rarely. Alan told himself that he loved a secluded life, freedom from the demands of other people, but at times it was quiet.

As she became accustomed to being silent, swearing an oath, or the expectation of coughing or trembling sounds, one afternoon came ringing, a door slamming into the house next door.

Elaine rang, and Josie stood at the door smiling. Allen called her in. She tied the cup of coffee in her armchair. ‘Thought I’d tell you what’s going on,’ she said. Alan was waiting when she slipped away from her drink. ‘About Neil.’ Alan wondered who Neil was – of course, Edward; His name was Neil. ‘His fingers, they won’t heal. And his leg became … well, it smells. ‘‘God, how terrible,’ said Allen. ‘He doesn’t go to a doctor, not to the hospital, but Liza pleads with him. Said she was scared what might happen. But you know what he is like. “Allen shook.’so I called an ambulance.

She complained and took an oath, saying she didn’t need the hospital. He didn’t do much for his anger, but he was very sad. Then there was the perfect curl when they arrived. He didn’t want to let them go home. They told him directly, what would happen if he was not treated … you know … so he was ready to go. The next morning, they kneeled down. ‘Allen offered a biscuit.

She couldn’t think what else to do. He imagined that the nurses, the other patients, and everyone swore to Edward, all afraid of his next protest. ‘He’s as happy as Larry now; she’s not in so much pain, see? But we couldn’t come back here, not with the stairs. ‘They lived with his mother, his dog and all, waiting for the council to find a suitable place.

Josie was back in charge, packing up her last items. ‘I’ll tell you my new address,’ he said. Allen opened a drawer to take a notepad and pen. There were leaflets that she had picked up when she needed to take Josie. Women like her were a help to the children, children like Lisa. Shelter, resettlement, from men like him. She laid her hand on the leaflet for a second. ‘I hope you are all right,’ said Allen, as he entrusted to Perry and Penny Josie.

‘We’ll all be fine,’ Josie said. How small she was looking, how wide her smile. Later, Elaine changed the address and phone number in her address book, knowing she would never use it.

Shocked at the radio, he opened the door and came into the yard. It was raining in the air.

He did not disturb the old coat as he was on the hook by the back door, only slipping into the shoes that were underneath it. She went to the barbed wire, a special square in the trellis, by which the dog bowed its head. He was so hungry for attention that he wrapped it up, couldn’t get enough, and he was happy in those moments too.

He released the tremors in his back, the nausea in his ears, the dampness of the spit in his hands, hoping to touch him, then he cried out. But now the only sound was the wind and the heavy rains were hitting the windows of the shed.

 

 


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