The Fox and the Old Fool (or the vixen and the victim)

Not so long ago there was a lonely old man, not from these parts, somewhat bent over from back injuries and rotund from a predilection to beer, who got lost in the fields near the forest.

He lay down in the grass near an oak tree, dreaming of making love to beautiful women and seeing their images in soft clouds in the blue sky.

Nearby a fox was searching for a new home and she trod softly through the long grass in case a hunter were about. True, she was both the hunter and the hunted, seeking to find dens where she might sleep and rabbits and chickens that she could devour, while avoiding being captured and put in a cage.

The breeze blew softly through the grass and the fox caught a scent that was new – maybe man – but different. Soon she came across the old man, supine in the grass lost in his dreams and she ventured a little closer. He awoke and reached out ever so slowly. She sniffed the tips of his fingers and came closer. He felt her soft fur and admired her shiny coat and athletic figure, and saw in her face a subtle but wicked smile.

He sat up and she stiffened in fear, knowing that she should run, that all men were hunters and none could be trusted. But he just put his hand out on the grass and so she sat next to him and began to relax. The old man dipped his other hand in his bag and brought out a chicken sandwich – broke it in half and handed one half to the fox.

She was not too hungry but was always interested in the pleasure of eating. So they sat there, the old man and the lady fox eating a chicken sandwich in the dappled light each lost in dreams, maybe even of being together.
And that is where the story really starts ………..

(This article is published under licence from Energitismo Limited)