A Typical Morning

       I saw the vultures in the morning mist. They stood on the grass, wings spread, trying to melt the ice which kept them from taking flight in the heavens above. I kicked a solitary stick that lay on the sidewalk as I made my way to the entrance of the darkened building to start my work day. The familiar click greeted my eardrums as the door granted me access to my tedious daily affairs. Without any noticeable conscious thought I disarmed the alarm and began turning on the lights. 

        In the new illumination that flooded the corridors an unfamiliar sight sprang me out of my robotic movements. There in the middle of the floor was a glue trap. Its tented cardboard hid its contents but its mysterious relocation from the corner against the wall already told me what I would find. When I bent down and peered inside, two shiny black pebbles met mine. A twitch of the whiskers let me know the rodent still lived, despite being completely immobilized by the adhesive. We stared at one another, both frozen in time and space. 

        The means may have been different but we found ourselves stuck. The rat stuck by a chemical compound. I, myself stuck by a compound of circumstances, a choice here, a missed opportunity there. Life had led each of us to a point that felt utterly futile. The empathy between us burned like an acid. An acid unable to free either of us but a burning acid none the less.

        I straightened and marched to the shed out back. I grabbed hold of a shovel and strode back to the glue trap. A moment of guilt came over me but I pushed it down just as quickly as it had risen up. I scooped up the trap with the shovel and carried it out back to the woods. I laid the sticky cardboard on the cold unforgiving earth, raised the shovel and froze like a statue carved in marble. My jaw tensed to stifle my guttural cry. The shovel fell on the trap. The sound of impact ricocheted off the trees shattering the silence of the waking day. Again and again the shovel smashed the ground till my arms ached. 

        I stood there for a long drag of time catching my breath with the morning chill against my flushed cheeks. Finally, I drove the shovel into the ground, scraped the bloody piece of pulverized cardboard into the hole and piled dirt on top. I gave it a firm pat with the shovel and walked back to the building to start my useless day. Right before I went inside I happened to notice the vultures had taken flight. They circled above. I wondered if they circled for the rat or for me.