That dog darting across the street, ears back, nose low – you must have seen it? No, there were no invisible sheep (that I saw), but the dog, all black and white as you’d expect, cut across the road when there was no traffic and disappeared down that alley. Why would I imagine it? It’s not a miracle or a hangover from evening parties. It’s just a dog that crossed the street. With no invisible sheep. Don’t doubt me.
The wire grass nipped and chewed to ground level, the sheep lightfoot bounce on the bright lit slopes. Baas on the baize. Dogs arrive.
Steve the sheep couldn’t sleep. He’d tried counting people. Nothing.
Still wide awake.
Steve the sheep.