A Fox in the Night

It was cold

and dark

at one o’clock

in the morning.

I was the hunter

personified,

smoking a cigarette

to clear my head

in the middle

of edits.

I had

no hope

no love

no patience.

I was reading

a book

about murderers;

inside,

Britain’s Darkest Taboos,

some shitty documentary

first aired on ITV

about people

killing people.

It was quiet;

too quiet.

Then there was a rustle

and a sound

like a dog

someone trod on,

ad this beautiful

scared little

thing

came out

from beneath my girlfriend’s

Ford Focus,

dug through some bin bags

and hit the road.

That’s probably my fault;

I shouted,

“Oh shit!”

and went

inside.

Still,

we had a connection;

in a single second

we said everything

we needed to say.

I wish humans

were that easy

to deal with.