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Tuesday, October 11, 2011


He came out of nowhere and was on me like
a wild jungle cat, clawing and scratching and trying
to sink his fangs into me. We were in the shadows on
East 89th Street at four a.m. a couple nights after my
eye-opening excursion to the Jersey Shore. I wrapped
my arm around my back, encircling his body, and
squeezed until I heard his vertebrae snap. He flopped
like a broken toy. I retracted my arm and he slid to the
ground, though he was still trying to grab me. He was
strong, very strong – but nowhere near as strong as I.