There I lay,
A motionless meat sack,
Curled into a ball
Like a terrified grayling.
Visible only by
The flickering flame
Of a small camp fire
As it licks the crisp
Autumn air.
Like a cat,
I am not fully asleep.
I allow myself only
To rest my mind and eyes,
While my ears
Are prepared for attack.
The night is silent,
Except for the eerie whistling
Of the wind as it
Navigates the leafless trees.
I let the spiders
Investigate my body,
For there are much more
Terrifying monsters
Lurking in these woods.
Crrrrrr
             uuuunnnn
                                 ccchh
My eyes open wide,
And my hand shoots quickly
Into my pack to retrieve
A small rusted hunting knife,
Given to me by a man
At a gas station
(Who did not need it anymore).
It wasn't much.
But when facing the unknown
You must rely on more
Than intuition.
C
    R
        A
            C
                K
                    !
Somewhere nearby,
A branch splits from its trunk,
And hits the forest floor
With a deafening  
T        H       U       D
I jump to my feet,
Stomp out the fire,
And press my back against
A narrow birch tree.
Silence.

I wait.

Breathing heavily,
As if I just ran a mile,
I tense and strain my ears
To detect the direction
Of the approaching beast

Kkkeeeerrrunnchhh!!!

I swallow what feels
Like a tennis ball.
Something is close.
Only a few feet away.
It undoubtedly knows
Exactly where I am.
The air smells of burning wood,
And my flesh must smell like supper.
I take a deep breath
(Probably my last),
And lurch out of the darkness
To attack the beast,
And                      W H A M!!
I smack right into,


My wife.

"What the hell are you dreaming about?
Come back to bed before you hurt yourself! "