The fox on Long Lane trotted in front of me, on the right track, crossed the street, despite fast traffic, leading the way, through the fog into the park that said NO DOGS where it jumped onto that carousel and sat, looking out into the forest/jungle of London. Then: nothing but turning. The fox waited for me to make something of it, but I pretended to be unmoved by our good luck to be untrapped at just the right moment. The city flickered while I stayed. It wasn’t too late. I would see what the fox had to— That fox could have played dead. That fox could have been bait. Wait. I thought of provisioning. Could a fox be caught in a box like a cat? When will someone grasp/grab it? And still this fox did not fill me in, fill me up— be still my fox— even after I circled back, having gone into Sainsbury’s for biscuits, even after ever after, circling, I mean, cemented.
Tara Deal is a New York writer of free verse, fiction, and urban fragments. She is the author of three award-winning novellas, Life/Insurance (forthcoming from Regal House in 2024), That Night Alive (Miami University Press), and Palms Are Not Trees After All (Texas Review Press).
