fewer or 1449 days
with the refreshing rains and punishing winds of this California winter he made of it a fond habit of walking down to the creek that bisected the town to witness its tumultuous flow take in its mad free churning appreciate it as a force of Nature
at one of the four crossbridges
he visited however while luxuriating in the sight of the fast water he recognised with
some dismay that the colony of feral cats which usually peered up at him from
the overgrowth and vines the downed trees and fallen limbs on either bank were
absent
it unsettled him
crossing back to the east side of the suspension bridge he saw a homeless man making his way out from under it
crossing back to the east side of the suspension bridge he saw a homeless man making his way out from under it
no one ever
looks up(though he often did)
the man was oblivious of him
the wary way he winded reminded
him either of two things he walked
picking his way carefully so as not to catch his foot and fall or he was hunting
it recalled to him when he walked
across the frozen Des Plaines River as a boy
a risky shortcut to take to the bowling alley on Milwaukee Avenue his heart beating in his ears distracting sliding his
feet listening to the ice whisper if he was only heavier that it would buckle
snap and drag him down and under glassy sheaves under crystal panes of broken ice
but also when he was a young man and hunted elk in the Bitterroot Mountains keenly aware of the winds direction that it would reveal his scent give him up to the bulls but also the deliberateness of hunting with a Remington chambered rifle whose accuracy he honed to one hundred yards a bush rifle
but also when he was a young man and hunted elk in the Bitterroot Mountains keenly aware of the winds direction that it would reveal his scent give him up to the bulls but also the deliberateness of hunting with a Remington chambered rifle whose accuracy he honed to one hundred yards a bush rifle
several in the party he hunted
with had Weatherbys sighted to fourhundred yards
where was the skill or sport in that hunt
where was the skill or sport in that hunt
the old Nez Perce Indians hunted
the Bitterroot with bows and arrows
stealth was their wary companion
he had no companionship with
these men and wasnt fool enough to believe he did or ever would that was particularly set when returned to
the chinked cabin one evening they admitted to throwing shots at a fleeing
elk and where the animal had stumbled they found blood not a carcass
they quit their hunt then rather
than track the wounded animal
endurance elks were known for their wild endurance
he was appalled
his first season he shot an elk
in the skull a head-on shot
it was hiding in a copse its antlers angled distinguishing
themselves from the upright stalks of the brush
he quietly went to his hip then
the ground and sighting the elk between the eyes he squeezed the trigger
its head and the copse bucked
excited he strode the seventy
yards to the animal but as he neared it he was downwind he smelled rot and upon the animal he realised it was
gutshot and crawled off into the brush to die
the rented tangle of branches held up its head after it drew its last tormenting breath
the unknown hunter dishonored the bull and dishonored and disgraced themselves
he watched the homeless man suddenly paused then he squatted to something at his feet
from his vantage point it
appeared to be a scrap of mottled cloth
he fingered it briefly then standing wiped his hand on his pantleg
then he kept walking picking his way as he did
after a bit the man stopped
this curious manner he came across an animal trail that backtracked up the wash
to the street and took it
he didnt move as he watched
him
the man remained
oblivious to his presence
when he made the street he turned
left and headed up the cross street that would take him to another bridge
downcreek
he walked to the corner and stood
awhile watching the homeless mans receding back
then he went down the animal trail and close to the brown water he
worked his way upcreek towards the bridge
the scrap homeless fingered had made him curious for some untold a fierce untoward reason
when he squatted and looked
he recognised what he feared it might be
a skinned out pelt attached to the head of a cat
he didnt want more of this horror in his
day
while some might ruthlessly applaud his initiative though those cunts would never dine on cats he had a feral cat indoor and one outdoor that he Cared for
homeless was eating feral cats
there were other tatters about
him but he averted his eye knowing where
there was one there would be others
while some might ruthlessly applaud his initiative though those cunts would never dine on cats he had a feral cat indoor and one outdoor that he Cared for
he doublebacked to the trail and up to the side street
he would track homeless in short order
he was downwind
he was downwind
conceived
1529, Twosday, 24 1.
17
1321, Sunday,
29 1. 17
1144, Tuesday, 31 1.
17
