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Sep 2015
The day came to an end as the fiery embers of the burning sun hung low and hid behind bruised clouds, setting into the darkening ground far off into the horizon. I looked down and checked the aged and black shaft of the arrow that I absentmindedly twirled between the worn life grooves of my hand. It had been shot many times and taken just as many lives but still remained true and sturdy. The broad head could have used a little sharpening but was still sharp enough to tear and rip thru the thick flesh of most big game. I muttered softly and straggly as I checked the nock. The hoarseness in my voice telling me that it had been a long time since I took a sip from my flask. The smell of courage hung in the air of my breath after a few small gulps; enough to feel the warmth spread evenly over the taste of my tongue and into my bloodstream, coursing it's burn thruout the extremities of my body. I watched out of the broken tree limbs, thorn bush, and **** grass makeshift blind and kept my eyes peeled on the decaying sunlit landscape for any signs of movement as the hunger in my stomach grumbled it's ache aloud. I took another drink to quiet it down and notched the arrow onto the string of my Hoyt compound bow, reading the arrow and my nerves for the **** that I had been anticipating and waiting for the past twelve hours but had also been waiting and anticipating for many days of my long and tired life...
TBC...
Brandon
Written by
Brandon  On the edge of your taste
(On the edge of your taste)   
414
   Wanderer, Cecil Miller and JS
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