She slowly works her way across the asphalt field that is dotted with 18 legged monsters. She stops at each one, eager to find a lonely owner tucked inside his steel boxed home. From my vantage point, I quietly observe her; needy, hopeful, dejected, scared. She is alone with only her holes to depend on. I know I can have her. The fruit hangs low and almost picks itself. This target is just too easy not to miss.
