Simple things in a brutal, simple light. The ravenous stray, bone sharp and snarling, as it pulls flesh off the side of the deer, buckling now. Down to its front knees. Down now, and doomed, its side crushed by the truck that skidded just minutes ago, and sped away, spraying gravel and trailing a flag of dust onward through the trees. Now another dog runs up out of the spurge. Both dogs—can they be said to smile?—snapping their teeth, growling as they eat, noses inside the living body, in the brutal, simple light.