There were crows circling the corpse at dawn. It was cool in
the desert, and the sun took some time to shake off the flat chill of the
night. The highway stretched like a red ribbon across the valley, and the
roadkill waved a grotesque paw in the thin air. In the foothills a shadow fell
as something picked up on the scent and lifted its head. Food. The hyena’s neck
fur bristled.
On the other side of the valley a hawk drifted, allowing the
sun’s rays to heat up the blood in its veins. It appeared to be lazy as it
hovered on the light updraft, but if you looked closely, you could see its eyes
scanning the horizon. Lifting a wing, it turned to the left as it saw a patch
of something promising in the distance. A brief rasping scream announced its intentions
to the sand and stubby bushes and the wind ruffled its feathers as it accelerated.
A rare wind swept through the valley lifting swirls of dust
skywards, echoing asthmatically through the caves and boulders of the hills.
The crows scattered as they caught sight of the hawk jetting
between the dust clouds, leaving the corpse in the pursuit of something less
desirable. On the other side of the road, the hyena padded with intent across
the pebbles, its tongue lolling to one side.
The hyena came to the side of the road. There were scents
here which rolled off its nose incorrectly. The dank reek of diesel was faint
but discernible. The hawk was closing in. Tighter circles in the air proved its
tension as it flexed its talons slightly.
Metres apart, the beast from the hills and the surgeon of
the skies caught each other’s eyes. An
orange glint of possessiveness flashed
across each one’s face and a charge of lightning in the distance
signalled for the race to start.
Utterly focussed, they swept down on the roadkill whose
obscenely acrobatic pose was shifting in the breeze. A gust and the briefest of
clouds puffed skywards as a truck slammed into the scene, scattering hawk
feathers and hyena fur in a colourful explosion, air horn blasting into the
desert’s void.
The truck only shifted slightly as it slipped into the distance
again, leaving the warm bodies of the creatures; enemies in life, united in
death.
Two black spots appeared above them. The crows watched as
the foreign truck barrelled away, leaving the desert to the locals again. We belong here the most, they seemed to
say, as they cawed their mocking
laughter and fell to eating the impromptu feast.