It is the sound he made in his youth whenever an ambulance passed on the big road at the edge of the neighborhood, but he can’t hear so far anymore. Now he is howling in despair. He is howling for his long life’s lost companion, the dog who died last year and left him to sleep alone. He is howling for his crippled hips, so weak he can hardly squat to relieve himself. He is howling because it’s his job to protect this house, but he is too old now to protect the house. He is howling because the world is empty, and he is howling because he is still here.
