The Hunt Planned
It's the first day of hunting season. The house was quiet when I left. My wife, Amity, laid snoozing when I crept out of bed. Not sure why I felt the need to be so quiet; she was snoring louder than most grown men do, and dead to the world. My daughter, Farrah, is home-schooled, so she had no school bus to catch.
The crisp and rusty-hued leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk toward my temple of solitude. This is the only place in the world where I can go to truly be at one with nature and myself.
As I secure my equipment and firearm to my back, I climb up the ladder I built with my own two hands to reach my glorious throne.
Today is a particularly special day because I have an extremely important decision to make. I use my hunting to also answer questions within myself that need immediate radification.
The question today, you ask? How do I earn back what has been stolen from me? Furthermore, how do I include my own son in the justice that both he and I deserve?
