Coyote

On the moonlit asphalt there came a coyote. Slender, slim-footed he scampered down the road, paws lightly grazing the ground, appearing almost to float across it as he stalked some prey. Then, he stopped beneath the hazy glow of a yellow stoplight. Ears perked up at the sound of my footsteps across uneven rocks. Slowly, he turned his head, eyes locking onto mine immediately. For a moment beneath the moon we considered each other. Then: a car alarm; a barking dog; a laugh from a party in the apartment across the street. My head turned at the noise, and upon returning to the spot beneath the lamp, found the coyote had already disappeared back into the night.