“Hello,” I say to her,
“Are you lost?”
She looks forlorn,
silent and alone.
“Where do you live?”
I kneel, holding out my hand.
“Let me take you home.”
I smile, urging her to trust.
“Ok,” she says finally,
“I live just down the road.”
She puts her hand in mine.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“Where to?” she asks, suddenly afraid.
I wrench her arm and drag her along.
“My home,” I bare my teeth, canines in full view.
She cries aloud.
Much too late, I think.
She’s lost.
WORDS from SONOBE 