The Hunter, the Hunted, and the Bystander

Into the vacant lot he drove, headlights almost caught me. Behind a car I crouched for one more wager, one less death. Through the glass I saw his eyes scan the boys and girls. Through the night I watched him, safe as hunted life affords. Curving, scanning, shining, sly, he stopped and started backing, turning ‘round, like thwarted sprite to catch me somewhere else. I watched him back and saw the boy, no more than five and standing there, unconcerned and playing, just behind the car. I knew that I should shout, but shouting springs a trap. So silently I watched and feared the thud, the fall, the bounce. Still the car kept backing, its tire like a tiger’s mouth. Guilty silence held me safe, safe as hunted life affords.