Prey

Sunlight barely makes it down to where I am and what comes is filtered through silt and the run-off from drains dribbling along the river's length. Dark shapes circle, never quite forming into a name. I have nowhere else to go. I brace against the tidal flow gripped by visions of a mouth stalking the weedy bottom, its widening gape ringed by teeth and holding ready the dark pit of a gullet. I feel the swipe of water swirled by what seems like a passing fin, smell its rank odour, and wait there for the bite.