By Sebastian Tolhurst
Humans are unique, living the life of the omnivore among our
kind, being at times predator, at others prey. Most of the time I am prey. I
walk down the street with my head bowed. My eyes furtively glance down dark
allies, looking for movement beyond the light. I move as my reptilian brain
tells me too, never making eye contact. Now and then I see one of the herd
pulled down. I never react; I just keep my head down and keep moving, glad it
wasn’t me.
Once a month though, I become the predator, my
transformation usually fueled by drink. Then I stalk the streets, head high,
chest puffed out. I'm looking for my prey. I know it well; the small men
walking with their eyes on the sidewalk, brain screaming danger at every turn.
So I will walk until one gives me an excuse. The prey will bump into me by
accident. They always apologize profusely, but their efforts are wasted. I use
the excuse to pounce, battering them until my blood lust is sated. Then like a
snake who has gorged, I retreat, my appetite for blood satisfied until next
month.
