quirkyreally870306032a-pevxr

An easy evening, music in my ears,
wrestling between exercise to lose belly fat
or exercise to lift my spirits—perhaps both.
The sky stretches above, easy, endless,
making it simpler to breathe, to move, to just be.

And then I saw you.
A fox.
Watching. Curious.
His head lowered, eyes drilling into my skin,
a silent question:
I will defend my position. I will defend my honor.

I paused, thinking how often we try to simplify people.
To make them either the destroyer or the destroyed,
a predator or a victim,
as if life is a chessboard with clear sides and moves.

But we are both.
Always both.
The fox could destroy me,
but I could destroy him.
The same glance, the same fire,
the same survival instinct reflected in each other.

Knowing that “I will destroy you” look—
that same pulse inside me,
ready to obliterate anything to protect myself—
I made the choice immediately:
to turn away.
To let the fox be king of the jungle for the day.

A peacemaker,
who made a choice, not a decision.
A decision too faulty, too permanent,
too human.
Just a moment suspended,
a reminder that life refuses to reduce itself to simple roles.

So the next time the fox crosses my path,
will I destroy him,
or will he destroy me?
Perhaps both will happen,
and perhaps that is the truth of all encounters:
we are all destroyer and destroyed,
predator and prey,
light and shadow,
strength and vulnerability—
woven into the same body,
the same heartbeat,
the same glance.

Only time will tell.
Only a judger will tell the story.