Out, Nowhere

Fasting in some godforsaken wilderness.  Drinking impure river water.


Pine needles and Pine-sol and little rabid squirrels.  Smells and sounds, auto-rock formations in the river bed, where they get washed up and form a makeshift dam.  The water pools and pools and spreads out, eroding a little more of the riverbank, exposing more of the root system of a white ash, killing it softly with it’s bubbling.


I pitch my tent and make a fire.  I strip to the waist and apply some more insect repellent.  I take a leak.  I throw rocks up into the trees and each twig that snaps or branch that deflects the rocks, I can hear, perfectly.  Crisp fresh sounds, vacuum sealed.  One rock scares a large deer towards my camp.  It sails over my tent in one graceful bound and lands squarely in the fire.  Stupid beast slips on a log, falls to its side and scatters ash and red embers, braying loudly and trashing its antlers.

The terrified animal tears off again, lopsided, heading for the river, but catches a hoof in a root tangles and breaks its neck falling into a gully.


Venison is tasty.


I break a promise and smoke a cigarette.  It’s tasteless out here.

5 thoughts on “Out, Nowhere

  1. Turing Tests
    I DID NOT release the code that makes visual recognition of CAPATCHAS possible for the latest generation OS. Quit looking at me like that.

  2. I Liked this
    Its sort of about that lie we tell ourselves that camping is all about nature and overcomming it but when we get out there its just about our bad habits…smoking drink etc

  3. Venison may be tasty
    but if you’d like to try helping someone in need, it might taste better. Or do you ever bother?

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