Rat

Wire

We all use the wire. It is a bridge between order and chaos.

But which side is which? The truth is they are both the same. Order and chaos abound, and no one place is a bastion of either.

But the wire is a bridge. It is safe. Mostly. Only one creature can cross the bridge at a time. We do not queue, but we do watch. We watch to make sure the wire is free before crossing. We watch to make sure the wire is free from predators, too.

Predators use the bridge as much as we do, but not for crossing. To them, it is not a bridge but a buffet.

The wire stretches as long as a tree. On one end it attaches to a stone shaft, also tree-sized. It runs vertically down to the ground and is exactly like a tree except it has no limbs, branches or bark. There are many of these shafts, and they each have a wire between them and to one of the beasts' structures. The beasts keep plenty of food in these places, and their structures are often safe havens for creatures such as us. Predators do not like going too near to the beasts.

The beasts do not like the predators. That is good for us.

The beasts truly are strange creatures. They are both foe and friend, depending on mood. They are unpredictable. They are order and chaos.

Now the wire is free. I cross. The breeze blows the wire back and forth, but it is easy to hang on. Four paws are good for grabbing. I am not bothered by a bit of wind.

I reach the beasts' structure. It is time to hunt for food. I find scraps everywhere. The beasts are careless. Surely the food matters to them? They discard it as though they don't know what it is. Do they not know the value of their refuse?

I consume my feed. The wire is free. I return to this tiny bridge, ready to return to the safety of tall trees and darkness.

I begin to cross.

The wind blows once more. The wire shakes, and then stops. So do I. There is no wind. There was no wind. Something else shook the wire.

A predator.

I look up and there it is. A winged monster. Fat, feathered, with two large eyes that consume its head. It has wings and claws. In the night it is almost black. My eyesight is good, but its is better.

I am moments from death.

We hesitate, the two of us. It is waiting for the right moment to strike. I am waiting for the right moment to run. They are the same moment, hence why we hesitate.

The first to act will lose.

I blink. It is me. I lose. I am still alive, but it does not matter. The predator has already stirred. It shakes ita great wings and races towards me. There is no escape: I can go forwards, or I can go back. The wire offers no other choices.

If I go backwards, I must survive a few morw heartbeats. If I go forwards, I will survive a few less.

The predator stretches out its claws. No, claws is the wrong word. *Talons--*it stretches out its talons.

A light comes on. A door has opened. One of the beasts is standing there, all black as a shadow. The light bathes both of us.

The predator is blinded.

A third choice occurs to me, one which does not involve the wire at all. I let go. I drop. The talons find nothing but air. I hit the ground and hardly feel it--the adrenaline racing through my veins means I hardly feel a thing.

Tall grass nearby: I am already hidden underneath it, as I run fast. The predator lands on the wire, hungry and annoyed. The beast has ruined its dinner: tonight, the beast is a foe. But, to me, the beast is a friend.

Order and chaos.