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the hunted
By js yu
Monday, February 18, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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a short story of nature's cruelty
He crept through the moonlight, careful as to make no sound. It was after him, like an overwhelming shadow, unavoidable, all seeing. He struggled to calm himself at the idea that his rapidly increasing heartbeat might give him away. He felt the tingle of adrenaline as it coursed through his little body. He knew there was only the slightest chance that he would survive the night and see the sunrise, but if only…if only. He heard rather than saw the oncoming darkness. The slow thump thump thump of mighty wings against his staccato heartbeat. He held his breath and curled himself into a ball in whatever cover he could find, hoping against hope that he would be spared. The beating of wings drew closer and an unearthly screech, dragged from the deepest recesses of hell, split the night air.
He had been found.
He forced his legs into action. He knew it was all over, knew that within moments the darkness would consume him and extinguish his fragile existence. He knew, yet could not ignore the slightest glimmer of hope.
Thump thump thump.
He ran, he ran for all he was worth, ignoring the numerous cuts as he scampered headlong into the undergrowth, ducking and weaving between the obstacles that denied him his escape, barring his way. Up ahead he saw shelter, a small opening beneath a sagging tree, his glimmer of hope. With each step he allowed his hope to grow, feeding him false illusions of life beyond tonight.
Thump thump thump.
He felt rather than saw the darkness close in on him, hungry for it’s next meal, hungry for blood, his blood.
Thump thump thump
Just a few feet further
Thump thump thump
Almost there…
*
The falcon flew into the horizon, the limp, dead body of a freshly caught mouse gripped tightly in her talons of steel. In the distance she could see the slow ascent of the sun as it blazed a crimson path in the sky and felt her blood churn with excitement. She hadn’t had a hunt this worthwhile in a long time. “You almost beat me” she couldn’t help but say to her trophy. She was going to enjoy her meal.
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| Reviewed by Muhammad Al Mahdi |
3/15/2012 |
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| Fine, very effective story telling. There is a special quality to this, a meaning that goes far beyond the subject. |
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| Reviewed by Robert Harrison |
8/1/2008 |
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Dear J.S YU
As I read this little story, it had me visualizing, not a mouse but a human. Some poor being hunted by a prehistoric bird of prey. The thump, thump of it's wings made it sound much larger than a falcon.
As you posted this in February of this year and I see that I am the first to comment, please do not feel discouraged by the lack of response. It happens to most of us until we become recognized for our talent. Please keep writing for the more you write the better you will become. May I suggest some short poems?
My respects to you.
Robert |
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