The fog clears from my eyes.

Here is a man!

Clothes torn. Breath ragged. Face searching.

Not terrible. Not terrifying.
Terrified.

He is not charging. He is fleeing.

Toward something?

Away from something?

Yes, the distance between us closes –
but not as I perceived.

His mouth is open, but he does not snarl.
He utters a cry I could not hear until now.

He is coming.

He is running to me.