on my way home.

it was a perfect day

the day only a Melbourne

autumn can produce.

Quiet, still with only whispers

for a breeze. On my way home,

a young girl of five or so whizzed

past me laughing. Her mother

kept watch as my large hulk

walked behind her. The young girl

stopped near my house. She was

looking down at something.

It was a dead rat that had its guts

split onto the footpath. The young

girl was laughing madly. I stopped

and stared looking at the ravaged

rat as if it was someone I knew.

I began to cry. The young

girl kept laughing.

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