The skunk scurried across the street at dusk.
The car in front of me slowed down and seemed to swerve but the skunk swerved too.
There it was in the middle of the road.
Fully intact except for the puncture that popped it like a water balloon.
No blood but a fountain of whitish liquid squirting straight into the air.
The smell overwhelmed me as I passed trying not to hold up traffic.
Nothing could be done.
What can I do? What do I do?
My chest was pounding and I heard myself say 'fuck' over and over with my left hand on my heart.
I felt sad and confused that a life had ended before my eyes.
No one to mourn with and no one to get angry at,
I just sat with the feeling of this little skunk and let myself smell its defense weapon as I made my way home.
Life can be short.