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October 15, 2007

Monday

Sometimes, you just have to commit to something. Tell us about one of those times.

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After a ninety-minute wait, I spotted a twelve-point buck six meters to the right of me. Unaware of my camouflaged presence, he lifted his grand head to remove the woody stems off a dogwood tree's lower branches.

As I steadied my quivering finger on the trigger and placed my right eye near the scope, a falling branch surprised us both. As he bolted away, I pulled the trigger and hit my target high in the back of his neck.

Moments later, with the buck far out of sight, my hunting companion closed his puzzled eyes and drew his last breath.

Posted by: Tom at October 15, 2007 7:11 AM · Permalink

The land is too flat here. I picture hills and valleys whenever I cross the bridge all along the horizon - that boring, far as the eye can see horizon. The trees don’t change color. They don’t lose their leaves. I hate it so much.

So I’m outside all around town armed with spray paint cans in all those autumn hues and shades. I’m tearing the leaves off the tress and I’m throwing them to the ground. I’m covering them with what hides inside those cans because fall is here, no matter how much this Florida town doesn’t like that. Rebel.

Posted by: Christopher Wahl at October 15, 2007 7:29 AM · Permalink

“You know, I don’t think this is a very good idea.”

“Oh, on the contrary mate, this is a splendid idea.”

“No, it sounds mighty dangerous to me. And even if it does work, which you have no way of knowing that it will, what are the odds you’ll ever use it. You could spend years risking your life, developing this ‘skill’ and never, ever need to use it. Seriously, what are the odds?”

“You. You’re such a fraidy-cat. I’m doing it, and you’ll see - it’ll save my life someday. Now sell me the iocane-powder, so I can get started.”

Posted by: kipp at October 15, 2007 4:44 PM · Permalink

"Maintain speed and direction! Keep those boosters boosting now! What's our altitude reading, goddammit?"

Vera could see Captain Kevin's white knuckles veer from side to side of the console as he struggled to control the craft under the onslaught of enemy fire.

"Jeez! I need increased momentum, you people! Throw some more rhodium in the mix! And quick!"

Captain Kevin glared at the screen.

Vera sighed and put down her crochet magazine. She went out to the hallway and re-dialled Doc Cotter's number.

"Can you come get him now? I can't stand much more of this. I want him commited".

Posted by: Kate at October 15, 2007 5:25 PM · Permalink

Sorry, forgot to mention, I posted on behalf of Rick. It was his story...I had trouble even writing this.

Posted by: Tom at October 15, 2007 11:22 PM · Permalink

Not a problem, Tom. Thanks!

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at October 15, 2007 11:23 PM · Permalink