Skip to main content

The Stalk

    It was a magnificent beast. He must have weighed close to 4 tons and was 15 feet in length. The massive head was probably 15 feet above the ground. It could move with the speed of an express train and its ferocity was unmatched by anything I had ever seen.
    The creature had a fan shaped ridge on its back, quite pronounced, and it was amphibious. When wounded, like it was now, its first instinct was to flee to the water. It could stay under for a long time, then arise from the depths to wreak havoc again.
    At the moment I was following its blood trail through the woods. The trees were not too close together but there were enough of them to block your view and give you that creepy feeling of imminent peril. The splotches of blood wound through the forest along the edge of cliffs. To my right and 50 feet below me was a sandy beach.
    To follow the blood trail of a wounded carnivore is one of the most nerve-wracking things imaginable. Especially one as big as a spinosaurus.
    My palms were wet as they rested on the stock of my double-barreled shotgun and I was cursing myself for not buying the heavy express rifle. My mouth was dry and my heartbeat was pounding in my temples. Constantly I looked to right and left with an occasional glance to my rear. The direction, not my anatomical part.
    Thirty minutes previously I had hit the great beast with a total of 9 shots; albeit from a distance. The great red splotches I was following gave credence to the belief that I had hurt him, but how badly?
    I almost jumped out of my skin as I heard footsteps patter on the grass and pine needles to my left. Swinging the heavy gun around in near panic, I almost shot a harmless dinosaur which was about the size of a sheep, with a similar level of ferocity.
    Gathering my last shreds of machismo, I walked on. When I came to the edge of a cliff that stuck out a little way over the beach, I looked out to sea and glimpsed the creature's fin about a hundred yards off-shore. Then he began to swim toward me at an incredible rate of speed. By the time I brought my sights to bear on him, he had emerged from the water and was streaking toward the cliff I stood on. I knew that I had 5 shells left in my gun and determined that no one would find me dead with any of those shells left in my weapon.
    Boom! A hit, no visible effects.
    Boom! Another hit. The brute paused and then dashed right, then left. He seemed sorely hurt and confused.
    Boom! Two shells were left now and the dinosaur was rushing up the cliff toward me. Even in my extreme fear I marveled at the incredible tenacity for life the beast showed.
    Boom! Boom! The pellets flew almost into his teeth. He fell dead a few feet from me. I contacted the transport to arrange for them to fly in for the carcass. Then I placed my I-Pad on the desk and sat back with a great sigh of relief. It was time to go to bed.
    From the green retreat, I'm CE Wills.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The White Chicken Mystery

    The other night I happened to come home very late. It was the middle of the night and I was driving up a steep mountain road. Near the top I saw something white in my headlights. It was standing in the other lane, standing very still. It was a large white chicken. It was probably a rooster because I thought I could see his comb as I whizzed by at my customary pace. He never moved a muscle. This is weird, don't you think?      After a couple of days to consider this phenomenon, I have come up with some plausible answers for his bizarre behavior. 1. He was conflicted whether or not he should cross the road. 2. He was feeling cocky and decided to play chicken with the traffic. 3.He was being hen-pecked at home and had decided to end it all. 4. Someone had egged him on to do it. 5. He had just watched the movie Fantastic Four and decided to try to stop a truck the way that Ben Grimm did on the bridge. 6. He had driven himself crazy wondering if ...

Cake Is Better Than Swords

Hey, everyone. On Thanksgiving, we had a get-together here at The Author's Green Retreat. One lady brought a cake which I wanted to show you. It had the look of a Roman Coliseum about it. Inside it was just as decadent...and fun, as ancient Rome. When I cut it open, homemade marshmallow cream began to ooze out in several spots, running over the chocolate cake and peanut butter icing. It is best served warm so the cream is fluid. Very tasty. The same lady, and her children, are people who have played a lot of Skyrim. They gave me some pointers on the game because I am having problems with it. They taught me how to fast travel, and a ton of other things, but the main thing was the armor and clothing problem. This is a little embarrassing, but let me explain. Okay. For several weeks when I played, I would enter towns and everyone I met would comment on my nakedness. I would select a tunic and shoes, whatever, go back around people and they would say something about it. I guess I w...

Batman Lives In Washington, DC

    Hey, everyone. I just read an interesting article on Washington Post.Com by Mike Rosenwald. It was titled Who Is the Route 29 Batman? This is a true story about a guy that the cops pulled over. The guy was driving a black Lamborghini with Batman plates. There were yellow Batman symbols on the doors. They had a video from the police car that showed him being pulled over. He was wearing a Bat-suit which he said cost him $5000. His gig is that he visits sick children in area hospitals and hands out Bat-Toys and Bat-books to cheer the kids up.     His name is Lenny B. Robinson and he says that the 'B' stands for Batman. He is perfectly sane and is just a good dude trying to make a difference. He is a self-made millionaire and is currently having a duplicate of the Batmobile custom-made at a cost of $250,000.    It was a hoot, watching the cops having their pictures made with the Bat Guy. Someone asked him where Robin was and he said that the boy won...