Fugitive

A convulsing animal escaped from the zoo writhes on the scorched street of a hot summer’s day. I am the soul witness staring through a window from the inside of a cooled building. Outside, lights flashing on and off…reflections dancing on misted glass and dilated pupils. Standing alone without allegiance to captor nor animal, I am still the soul witness. Now, silenced screams become deafening aside the crisp snap and clasp of handcuffs. Animal’s freedom dissolves into the damp, fluid of concrete. Kicking and clawing and pleading for mercy, Animal resists the zoo’s calling. A witness peering into the Animal’s eyes, I search for indifference. Camouflaged by contempt for such a disturbance, I attempt to ignore that stale smell of addiction in the humid air. Onlookers now gather as if summoned by the flashing lights and primitive screams. They watch Animal like he is the prey. His bloodied claws broken and bound by the contented smiles of his captors. Diminishing concerns fading away into the thinning streets grasp what is left of the spectacle as flashing lights gradually disappear like droplets on a fogged window. Tense air thickened by preceding events is difficult to breathe. Animal is gone…pushed and wheeled away seeping into the distance as the asylum awaits his arrival. Again, Animal’s cage awaits patiently, unlocked and ready.