image [https://img.wattpad.com/7646a2741c62acc732aee3603f37e939138f1243/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6e536b69767347564e4452644b413d3d2d313438383333353937332e313830366330613733373664383433613639333730353039393136302e706e67]

The coyote likes the sun.

It seems like he knew this day will be the last one bringing him a vehement sun because, although the cold days still mix with the warm breezes of a summer that refuses to disappear, November has already arrived and late autumn is winning the battle.

He has wandered around the city all day and only stops when sunset comes.

He lies down to sleep on the bench of some park whose name he doesn't know or care about (Does he know places have names?) while he receives the last beams of light that caress him and then disappear behind the horizon of old buildings in the industrial area of the city.

Their fur retains heat and protects their sleep from the weather that changes abruptly as soon as the sun goes down.

That's how she finds him, asleep, blending in with the stray dogs, as if he didn't have to be hiding anywhere else.

"There you are, huh?

Hahhh. I've been looking for you for a long time.

I don't know how you get off the leash.

What am I going to do with you?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I don't want to lock you up, but if you keep disappearing..."

She caresses his back, which is still warm and she feels a little envious, because she has forgotten her sweater and is now cold.

"Hey... Will you talk to me someday?"

Then she realizes that she and the coyote are not alone in the park.

"Ah!

You do ask that thing to talk to you, and you ignore me?

Day and night I seek you and I get nothing from you.

Don't I deserve your attention?

That animal doesn't care about you!

He doesn't know you exist!

He doesn't even talk to you with his eyes!

I hope you continue to rot with his silence!"

It's something she knows, although she can barely make out its figure unfolding in the shadows of her head. In order not to be so scared, she has learned to imagine that it is next to her and not inside. She responds calmly, as she has learned to do:

"You always scream.

When you stop raising your voice, I'll pay attention to you."

"Ah, how polite girl.

Look how much you've changed since I met you.

Too bad it doesn't do you any good.

The same useless tasteless person of a long time ago.

What have you done with me?

Nothing.

You haven't even done anything for that coyote.

And you're going to say you can't do anything.

You can, though.

And you know where to go.

But here you sit waiting for a miracle to happen, treating him like a puppy abandoned by those who claim to be his friends.

Is this what you wanted?

Is this what you have done with the life you took?

You call me a parasite, and you are the one who drinks from my life. You get drunk on it and vomit it with contempt.

Go on, pretend you don't hear me.

But your heart is beating so fast.

Hahhh, sure it is.

Remember, just remember that heart belongs to me."

Although summer has given up, autumn does not claim victory. Winter has only given it a few seconds of respite.

*

"I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth".

Umberto Eco