Winter Hunger
even good intentions can sometimes go bad


In the cold of a winter night I often hear them.

Don’t you hear them, now? Listen!
I’m an old man, and I can hear them. But then I know what to listen for.
I hear their eager feet in a full run over the frozen ground.

There, again! Sounds like padded thunder, doesn't it?
Oh, you won’t see anything out that window. Not yet.
Just shadows darting about in the winter wind.


There it is again! Hear it? Already so much closer.
Almost out of the forest, now.

They move so fast across the icy streams and along the frozen paths.
Running. Searching the ground, sniffing the wind. Running. Searching.
Their hunger pushes them onward, faster and faster.


They'll be coming here, you know. Oh yes!
Didn’t I tell you?
They often come here in winter, searching for something to eat.


Oh! There they are! I know you can hear them now. Just outside.
Hear that frantic whimper? That low growl? And that one?
Always they search the whole yard, over by the barn, and all around the house.
Sniffing everywhere. Growling and snapping at each other in the dark.


They know we're in here, you know.
Oh yes! They can smell us.
To them, I’m sure we just smell like fresh meat.
And I guess that's what we are. Fresh meat.


Oh! Oh, no! Hear that? Listen to them!
Why, they're chewing on the boards of the front porch!
Oh my! Look at those claws reaching under the door!
They're trying to dig right through the floor!


This used to be a sheep farm. That was long ago.
I suppose they got used to coming here on a frozen winter night to eat.
But all of that was years ago, of course.
Long before I found this place and moved here, to get out of the city.


Oh! Did you hear that board snap?
They must be starving, the poor creatures.


Say, now, what are you doing? You're not thinking of leaving, are you?
Oh, I wouldn't do that, if I were you.
They're awfully hungry tonight. And they're very fast.
Terribly fast. They would be on you in an instant.


All right, I understand. Yes, you should be safe in your car.
Well then, I suppose you just might make it.
You might try to sneak out the back while they're all busy up front.

Me? Oh no, not me. No, you go, if you must.
I'll take my chances staying right here. This is where I belong.
But you, well… if you must go, you had better be fast.
Think you can make it to your car?

Well then, run now! Hurry!
Run, man! Run! Run! Faster, man! Oh!

Oh, no! Oh, no. Didn't make it!
They're all over him, ripping him apart.
Oh, no. Oh my, my, my.

Such a terrible, terrible thing.

I thought that maybe this fellow would get away.
But that big gray one loves to hang around by the back door. Waiting.
It's like he knows where the food comes from.

Oh well. At least they'll all be fed now. Satisfied for a little while.
Maybe until early next week.
Then another cold night, and another guest from town.
Or maybe a hitchhiker.


I should never have started feeding them. I see that now.
But they were so hungry, the poor creatures.


Well, thankfully, the spring thaw is coming soon.




© 2003 Jim Sutton