The Scavenger
Published in
2 min readApr 9, 2019
I am a scavenger. I sit on the telephone wire, a ravenous vulture watching a man and a woman arguing across the street. The clouds remind me of ashy marshmallows I found in a fire pit yesterday. The woman starts violently shoving the man; he stumbles backwards. I am not sure if I feel bad for the man or not. I am a scavenger with emotions. The woman keeps saying, “That isn’t what happened.” I don’t know what they are fighting about but I want to know, so I perch…
