On Life as a Sarcastic Fringehead

My writing day is being chopped into small pieces. Once I get started, it's time to run and do something else. I'm posting the frag as it is in this moment. Then, I'll pick up dinner ingredients and the Starbucks vanilla frappucino which should keep me awake the rest of the night. I can write in silence and get some work done after my day is over.

Nose first, a massive dog peeks into the shop, either unaware or uncaring that he’s leashed and bound to the hand of his owner guardian, a small dark-haired woman who weighs thirty pounds less, it seems, than her mastiff. She calls him, very sweetly, and he obeys, immediately withdrawing from the doorway. No longer pulling her along the sidewalk, he allows her to tie him to a street lamp four feet from the shop entrance. All at once, he prepares to drink his water, rest on the pavement, and guard the half-block radius surrounding Parker Gale.