The Fox

Alone through the quiet morning blackness I tread.

Stars overhead guide my steps

Peaceful, and yet

Fear grips my heart and clenches

Tight.

Scenes of imagined horror spring to mind.

In the distance, a cat darts across the street

A streetlamp silhouette.

Fear squeezes;

I tread on.

And suddenly, a wolf sprints across my path, teeth bared

(Or is it a cat?)

My scream rings out,

Piercing the darkness, curdling the air

As it fades,

a fox only is revealed.

Fright reverberates,

smaller and smaller pulses.

And I chuckle, bemused that the fear I imagine-

Attacker jumping out from behind a tree to tackle me to the ground,

An assault I have imagined a hundred different ways-

Is nothing compared with the very real fear of

A fox.

 

 

 

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