A bright and hot summer afternoon in a city park.
An open field, walking with friends.
A young woman’s cry suddenly pierces the air.
I turn. Everyone is gazing at the ground at my feet.
I look down and in the dirt is a bat,
whisper-squeaking and writhing.
As we attempt to fathom the mystery of why,
in the light of day, in the middle of an open field,
there is this rare, nocturnal creature,
the young woman's pleading voice whispers:
"Put it out if its misery - someone - please!"
Instinctively, I grab a large stick lying on the ground,
and just as I raise it above my head to strike,
two bats fly away.
To this day, I wonder, was it combat or sex?