Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Tim was crouched in the bushes and Felicia paused to study him. He was watching a family of badgers, the cubs almost as big as the adults as they increased their body fat to survive the winter. The creatures had pulled over one of the wire basket bins and were rooting through the contents, wolfing down the discarded remains of a chicken take-away. Tim was busy photographing them with a night vision lens and making notes in a field journal.
Felicia had little interest in what this man’s life had been or what had driven him to contemplate suicide. Such matters she left to others. If she was interested she would read the obituaries for the next week or two, though she was never crass enough to ring them in red ink and say ‘I ate him.”
Labels: halcyon days