**This part of the story won’t make sense until you read part 1. To do that, click here**
Greg rubbed his eyes and yawned deeply as he left apartment 27. He turned the snow globe over in his hands and smiled as he watched the flecks of plastic float around the tiny town.
He arrived at his apartment and unlocked the door, Peggy barked sharply and ran up to the door to greet her owner, wagging her tail and jumping up on Greg’s leg. Greg smiled and patted Peggy on the head as he walked into the living room. There was trash strewn across the carpet, mystery stains on the couch, and the refrigerator door was open; its contents spilling out onto the floor.
Greg heaved a sigh, pointed to Peggy’s dog bed and shouted “go home, Peggy. You’re a bad girl.” Peggy seemed to know what this meant. Her tail immediately drooped and her ears fell. She looked down at the ground, turned away from Greg, and slowly walked towards her bed. “I wish you would behave” Greg said, and set the snow globe down on a bookshelf to his right. He stepped over the pieces of trash to the kitchen and scooped up a cup full of dog food, sloppily dumping it into her bowl. He grabbed a warm beer from the fridge, cracked it open, and walked back to his bedroom to leave the mess until morning.
Once Peggy heard the door to Greg’s room latch, she excitedly got up and ran over to her food bowl. As she crunched away at the dry food and drank her water, she heard a strange noise. Her ears perked up and she followed the noise to the snow globe on the bookshelf. She sat down and cocked her head to one side. The snow globe was making a hissing noise and the snow inside was swirling around the globe like a tornado. Peggy whined a bit and barked quietly at the globe, she didn’t like it, but she wasn’t sure why. Suddenly, without thinking, she was moving around the apartment, picking up trash and placing it back in the bin and licking up spilled messes.
When Greg woke the next morning, he stopped short outside of his bedroom door. The entire living room was clean, the kitchen was spotless, and all that was left from the night before were some stains on the carpet and furniture. He assumed he had been so tired the night before that he forgot he had cleaned before going to bed, although he swore he had left it. Peggy was sitting in the center of the living room, wagging her tail. She looked contented and happy to see Greg, though she didn’t yelp for food or jump on him as she usually did in the mornings. In fact, he was surprised to have his alarm clock wake him for once. Peggy usually jumped on his bed and licked his face when she wanted her breakfast.
Greg shook off the strange events of the morning while he drank his coffee, ate his breakfast, and read the paper. Peggy laid down in her bed the entire time, rather than beg for scraps at his feet. Once the table was cleared, he dressed and left for work. Peggy was still sitting on her bed when he left. Greg brought her a treat and patted her head. He grabbed his keys, and for a moment, paused to started at the snow globe on the shelf by the door. He shook his head and left for yet another day at the office.
As he pulled into the parking lot of his office building, Greg noticed he was a bit early and was one of the few cars in the lot. He decided to stand outside of his car and smoke a cigarillo. He had them for those stressful days at work he just couldn’t cope with. He stood outside in the crisp, cold air of the dark morning. Feeling his muscles relax and the tension in his neck and shoulders subside, Greg took one last drag and started walking towards the building. He tossed the butt behind him after a few steps and immediately heard the sound of flames. He turned and noticed that a patch of liquid on the ground had ignited under his car. The flames covered the tires that had driven through it and traveled up the flecks that had stuck to the undercarriage. Greg stood in disbelief as he watched his windows blacken and smelled the burning gasoline. Black smoke rose from the car and in what seemed like an instant, the entire car was on fire. Greg didn’t move. He couldn’t move. Calmly, he took his cellphone from his pocket and called 911.
Last Week’s Story: Wishful Thinking Part 1
Next Week’s Story: Wishful Thinking Part 3 (Finale)
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