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Sniffer and the Hobo. By Glenn Gillis
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Genre/Category: Action and Adventure
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Sniffer and the Hobo By Glenn Gillis
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Sniffer and the Hobo is a pleasant adventure of a Hobo and his dog trying to make the best of the life with the little they have. The story takes place in Boston center. Life was difficult for the Hobo’s past. He once had a job and family just like everyone else, but tragedy will change all of that. The burden is too difficult to endure. He becomes an isolated Hobo. Life is difficult, but that’s about to change. He makes friends with a little shaggy dog he will name Sniffer and a new adventure begins.

Glenn Gillis is a now a cancer-free retired musician, but he always had a thing for compositing songs and writing stories. Besides other unpublished novels that will soon be published, this is his first novelette


Fall had returned once again to the city of Boston, assailing it with cold winds and freezing rain. People scurried along the streets in warmer clothing. They raised the collars of their coats to protect their necks against the cold. In the heart of Boston, a few miles from the inner harbor, was a large beautiful park. In its center was a small lake. Ducks, geese and even a couple of trumpeter swans had chosen it as their summer home. Now, the oak and walnut trees that gave shade and beauty to the park during summer stood barren and bare. The once green leaves had turned yellow and brown and were now being blown helter-skelter every which way by the malicious winds. The lush, green lawns that provided a welcoming resting place for picnickers, was now yellow. Already Jack Frost was up to his old tricks, for in the early mornings one could see tiny ice crystals on the branches. It wouldn't be long before the tiny lake would freeze over and the ground would be covered with snow

On this fall day, the park was now void of the usual human crowd. At first glance, the fact that the park seemed empty didn't mean that it was. On closer observation, if one looked closely, one could see a slight movement along the trunk of a tree. A black squirrel was briskly climbing upwards towards its nest, its cheeks filled with nuts. Like many forest animals, it was gathering food for the winter's hibernation. At the foot of the tree, stood a bench; a welcome resting place beneath the tree's shady branches on hot summer days. On this cold morning, a lone figure lay on the bench, his face pressed to the back of the bench. The cardboard and the newspapers that he had used for warmth during the night had been blown away by the wind. Some of the newspaper pages were still pressed to the front left foot of the bench. He stirred slowly, groaning, trying to shake the night's stiffness from his back and legs. Bum, tramp, hobo; call him what you like, he was a homeless person.