She was jealous of his four legs. Oh, to have two extra legs to rush up the dunes and see the world from on high, and prey at night into tents, to come down from the avalanche cities into the urbanscapes and terrorize exurbia with your professional silence.
Come on, baby. Do something.
The coyote moved to the side of the car carcass, towards one of the emptied windows. But just a foot. Vivienne could now see a black box on his left side, facing her as he came alongside of her, tied to his flank, like a Hebrew phylactery box that contained the Torah you davened with every morning. What was it? Was it a bomb? Her gut said bomb.
Get out of the car, coyote. Nice and easy. Her heartbeat lowered; it did that in emergencies. Like an athlete.
She took a pic of his side, with the box on it, his
