Prelude to a Kill
by Ed Welter
So the hunt begins with a long sweeping curve across the outermost boundary of his domain. Rising ever upward as if to penetrate the very roof of the sky, he hovers to obtain an optimum vantage point.
Down across the barren terrain he gazes at nothing in particular but detects everything. His next meal awaits somewhere below; inevitable as the path he will repeat over and again until it is so. The chill in the air reminds him that this is the time to be patient. So confident is he in his skills of the hunt, the pursuit is merely a necessary exercise to a forgone conclusion.
He circles back and forth in an ever tightening pattern. His muscles are calm but aware, awaiting the split second calling at the precise time of need. No prey, no competitor within his sight can match his speed of approach.
Across the flats, barely perceptible, he catches the movement of a dull shadow permeating out from behind an object obscuring his direct contact. This is it. His muscles grow tight as he dives down, contorting his body into a missile-like form. The speed is relentless and his heart beats crazy as he races against his fellow competitors toward the kill until at last he arrives.
“Good morning,” he says, “That’s a fine automobile. I have the keys right here. Why don’t we take it for a test ride?”
His prey securely in his talons, there will be no escaping on this particular morning.