One Small Step

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Lying on my back with the sun on my face, time comes to a halt. I’m listening to Mogwai. There are no other sounds. No distractions. In a field miles from nowhere, I’m at one with nature, and nature’s at one with me. My skin’s turning red. Forgot to bring any lotion. Doesn’t matter. Let it burn. I’m not really here. I never have been. Losing myself in the colours that swim behind my eyes, I exist not only in the breeze but in the future as well as the past. I’m travelling through time, drunk and alive and grinning like a kid whose just nicked a fiver from his mum’s purse. That kid, he’s running through the streets on his way to the local shop dreaming of all the sweets he can buy not caring about the hiding he’s in for when he gets back home. Sitting up, I shake the image from my head and take a deep breath. At first, I see only the blanket I’ve been resting on, but as my vision sharpens from wiping the sweat from my eyes, I see him staring at me. A fox, sat in the grass a few feet away from the edge of the blanket. Bushy thing he is, all proud and graceful with his nose in the air. Grabbing the sandwich from my satchel, I remove it from the plastic wrapping and break off a little of the crust. Holding it out, the fox sniffs and cautiously eyes me up. Tossing it towards its feet, he lowers his head mindful not to lose my gaze, and as he licks his lips, I swear I can see him grinning. Tearing off another chunk, I hold out my hand and here he comes taking one small step after the other. Skulking forwards, he hesitates somewhat, but when I go ahead and call him a good boy, he takes the food and gobbles it out of sight. Stroking my fingers through its fur, for a second he backs off, then with one eye on the rest of the sandwich, moves a little closer. Tearing it in half, I feed both bits to him then offer him some water. Emptying the bottle next to his mouth, he sticks out his tongue and drinks until he’s had enough. When he’s done, I expect him to move away, but instead, he circles around on the spot before nuzzling himself against me. Squeezing him close, I sniff his fiery coat and smile. So whatcha wanna do, boy?

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

12 replies »

  1. “I’m not really here. I never have been.”
    I feel like this more and more. You never fail to remind me I’m not alone. A freak maybe, but definitely not alone. X

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