ss1

Tales of Solitude part 3
2002-12-06 - 9:38 p.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

Tales of Solitude

 

part 3: Curious Bunnies and Mountain Lion Memories

 

 

I walked outside to get some firewood last night, and scared a rabbit.

 

He startled me, as much as I him.  In this kind of silence, hearing any sort of movement means something, and usually, something not good.

 

He was a curious bunny, and hopped around, watching me safely from a distance.

 

It was a year or two ago now, perhaps more, when I was in a similar situation of quiet. 

 

I was down on the bank, by the water, pondering life and what, when I heard the sound of footsteps in the darkness.

 

Animal footsteps.  Four of them, and the slow slink of brush being crushed by a methodical movement.

 

A predatory movement.

 

Chills ancient and fey went up my spine.

 

In that instant, I knew what the antelope knows, or the wildebeest.  And I listened.

 

I made noise.  It stopped. Breifly.

 

I stomped.  It didn�t slow down.

 

I scrambled up the bank. It moved at an up angle after me, almost cutting me off, but not being so bold.

 

I waited. There was a pause.

 

Thinking it was a trick of the solitude, I went down the bank again.

 

It went down, also, coming closer.  I paused at the bottom, and the slow slink and creep came closer.

 

Sure, slow, deliberate steps.

 

Fuck.

 

I scrambled back up the bank, and into the house.  Footsteps pacing after me.

 

I clambored onto the deck, and flashed inside, looking for a gun.

 

Sure, the animal was only doing as animals do.  It was not personal, I was just the best meal for miles.

 

Perhaps it was rabid.  Whatever.

 

But I�m not going down as a victim of the food chain.

 

Of course, I couldn�t find a gun. 

 

(which may have been for the best, random crazy shots into the darkness aren�t looked kindly upon by anyone)

 

Instead I grabbed this old veitnam era machete that has been laying around for thirty years for no reason, went back out onto the deck with hostile thoughts of dispassionate murder on my mind. 

 

I turned on the outside lights and stood on the deck, peered out into the inky cloak of night.

 

Two glowing eyes peered back, contemplating.  Assessing.

 

And then it padded off into the night.

 

I considered it the better part of wisdom to not pursue. 

 

Years later, I�ve come to find out that the mountain lion has made a comeback in the area.

 

 

 


a template by wicked design

about comment designer archive archives newest diaryland

tml>