Consider the quiet of a
suburban night
after storm season,
in a tamed pocket of nature
kept just wild enough
for the little ones
to explore.
There are no wolves in these woods.
The creatures are skittish,
docile,
allowed to exist by merit
of their meekness.
A rabbit will eat its own young,
but it won’t eat ours.
Don’t worry.
Adolescent inquiry
will always feed the food chain.
Late at night,
they become hunters,
their flashlight beams
cutting through the darkness
in search of prey.
It’s all fun and games,
until the quiet sets in.
There are not even crickets
in this man made marvel,
or if there are,
they are too scared
to sing.
There is nothing but muffled breathing,
punctuated by the occasional
shout of discovery.
And then more silence
as the search continues.
Soon enough,
the players give up,
having had their fill of ancient urges.
They wander home
into the warmth and light
of modernity.
But there was no danger,
except what they made
for themselves.
What a strange thing to miss,
the cold dread
of knowing that
carnivores prowled
the same night as you did.
suburban night
after storm season,
in a tamed pocket of nature
kept just wild enough
for the little ones
to explore.
There are no wolves in these woods.
The creatures are skittish,
docile,
allowed to exist by merit
of their meekness.
A rabbit will eat its own young,
but it won’t eat ours.
Don’t worry.
Adolescent inquiry
will always feed the food chain.
Late at night,
they become hunters,
their flashlight beams
cutting through the darkness
in search of prey.
It’s all fun and games,
until the quiet sets in.
There are not even crickets
in this man made marvel,
or if there are,
they are too scared
to sing.
There is nothing but muffled breathing,
punctuated by the occasional
shout of discovery.
And then more silence
as the search continues.
Soon enough,
the players give up,
having had their fill of ancient urges.
They wander home
into the warmth and light
of modernity.
But there was no danger,
except what they made
for themselves.
What a strange thing to miss,
the cold dread
of knowing that
carnivores prowled
the same night as you did.
Pippa Russell is an aspiring screenwriter, avid science fiction and fantasy fan, and the co-host of Adapt or Die, a podcast about adaptations. You can find her on Twitter at @russell_writes.