February 8th 2019
Locking up my bicycle at the substation railings that fence the back of the carpark at the gym, their notice a white object about the size and shape of a squash in the muck and litter on the other side. It's dark so I unclip my headlight for a better look. It's a small fox skull, part of its spine and a few ribs still attached, the rest lost to fellow scavengers or at least nowhere to be seen. Jawbone missing.
I pick it up and thread the tail of tapering vertebrae through the steel slats, the substation buzzing and signs promising death by a bolt from Mjolnir for such Promethean trespass. The hanging dismemberment is rather grim and I'm relieved when it falls at the atlas, leaving me addressing a chapless but perfect skull like Hamlet.
I wrapped it, running my fingers over the complete and wicked dentition, in a woolly hat and put it in my bag, did the gym, cycled home and cleaned it off with an old toothbrush and some diluted bleach.
What I'd like to do now is give it to Sparrow to make something of.
Comments
Post a Comment