EKPHRASIS
Dying Dog; - After Goya. He was still alive, half turned on his back, when my gaze met the animal, he stared at me with his large eyes full of fear, and that look stuck into me, split open my stomach and let a flood of sawdust pour out, I was a rag doll and I didn’t feel anything, and at the same time I wanted with all my heart to bend over and caress his head, and tell him that it was going to be alright, but instead I shot him, and I kept shooting at him, his head exploded like a fruit, then my arm detached itself from me, moving left and right, and went off all by itself down the ravine.