Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Vicarious
The prey was mine that day, or rather I, as the prey, was made that day. I ventured forward to establish dominance in the hunt, but the beast didn't move a single eye, or what I had imagined to be eyes on my preconceived notions of a head. Without warning, it burst upward....She burst upward? A well placed spear fell the Cervidae and I was left in a daze. Did I see hair flowing from the helm? Reality brought itself to my attention as I realized I was standing in the brush, gazing vacantly at an armored hunter who had just procured my dinner.
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