A fox drifts along the fresh blanket of snow and in the instant I wonder.
A twitch of my elbow makes a ripple in the curtain. A tug and the metal bar holding up the fabric sends a wave of sound through the glass plate sealing me off from the wintry scene.
The scavenger stops in its tracks and the breath catches in my throat. I swear it sees right through me. A moment's thoughtful deliberation before a graceful turn pioneers its retreat into the woods.
I stay and I watch it weave in and out of the trees with their moon dust coating and try to imagine how it would be to skirt between the trees on this dark snowy night.
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