Talk Without Speaking

Well�.here I am. And I am, for this immediate moment, doing ok. That might be different in 5 seconds. It might be different in 2 hours. It might be different tomorrow or a week from now or 2 months or, as Clayton said, in 10 years from now.

When I was home we, once again, had a fisher in the neighborhood. He or she has been around for the last couple of years and seems to come through our part of the forest around Halloween. Squirrels start acting very unusually, making desperate ploys to get into the house and safety; they know what is afoot. Soon after they start disappearing from the forest. A few neighborhood cats have fallen victim as well.

I can, to a certain extent, relate to the squirrel’s plight. I, too, am being stalked but my predator is far more malleable; it can take any shape, it can be anything. It can be a sound or a picture or a shoe. It can be a painting, an email, a memory. It can be a smell, a drink, or a vision. Or nothing at all. It strikes without warning and gives no clues to its coming. Thankfully though, it only wounds and then leaves me be until the next time.