{i miss paper letters}

I had been walking all morning when I came across her on my way home.  I’d turned back earlier than I had planned to because it had started to rain, well, more like mist really, but by the time I reached the spot where she stood torrents were lashing everything exposed.

From a ways away I could see that there was something in the road, but I couldn’t discern what type of something.  As soon as I crested the dip we were nearly face-to-face.

Hello, I said, in a calm and soothing tone.  What are you doing out in this weather?  The vixen cocked her head to the left and then quickly to the right before straightening back in line, all the while keeping her eyes locked on mine.  They were shining gold even in the muted daylight, and she seemed to reply, albeit silently.

Mesmerized by the mere existence of each other, neither one of us moved again for some time.  When I felt we were familiar I took a step closer; she remained still.  I took another, and then I was close enough to touch her.  I reached out a glove hand but saw the slightest quiver to her lip, heard a low guttural sound from deep inside her throat.  I retracted the hand, rolling each finger from pinky to pointer into my palm and closed my thumb over all of them.  She sniffed the air coming from same direction of the storm.  The only sound was that of the raindrops bouncing off the spring foliage, pinging off the metal road sign, slapping the asphalt.

We remained together for a while.  I imagined we were having a conversation, and was enjoying it so much that I didn’t hear the car speeding toward us crest the same dip I had less than an hour before.  I was smiling, as the tires screeched, didn’t even turn around in time to see the driver’s expression or the bumper meet my femur.

As I sailed over the guardrail I caught sight of her tail disappearing into the trees and then all went black.