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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Drama
- Published: 12/08/2019
The hunter's obsession
Born 2000, M, from JAMSHEDPUR, IndiaThe hunter's obsession
By Ayush
***
Author's note:- This particular piece was written in less than twenty minutes as it was written to serve an assignment given to us in our Literature class. Our teacher, provided us with the opening line, '
It was raining continuously that night, when I stepped out...' and asked us to come up with something creative as fast as possible (because the period would last for 50 minutes and she wanted the students to come and read their creative pieces before the class.) This is my version of the tale, I hope you enjoy it. (I'm publishing it same as it was when I read it before my classmates.)
Regards,
Ayush.
***
It was raining continuously that night, when I stepped out; my rosewood bow, swayed across my brawny back,strapped with the stern string that lined my bare chest- and I strode onward.
The forest was silent, as if the life that roamed along its tall pines, was but a spirit that had subsumed into the yawning night by the sun set.
I was vigilant; my senses, alert, my fist, clenched and eyes set on the nothingness that expanded beyond the shimmering raindrops; and the dangling trees.
I hated it, the life of a lone hunter; I'd never loved the gash that my arrows left on thick animal skins, because their moan wasn't different to that of a human- I was a human, at least I liked to believe so.
All I searched for in the darkness of that hushed forest was a game; a big game to hunt and satisfy my insatiable thirst for approval- validation of my skills, from the wild.
I didn't have to wait for long, for dawdling along a frozen lane of shrubs, I encountered a buck.
It wasn't sprinting, it was lying relaxingly under the weeping night sky.
I immediately pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocking it on my bowstring,aimed at the buck.
All these days I'd shot animals, dead; for the pleasure I drove, giving up to my obsession, of killing, but this was different.
I didn't want to kill that buck because I was obsessed; I wanted to kill it because I was jealous of its peace.
How can a creature so numb and dull be at peace with life, while a fully-evolved species that humankind is, gives in to the same mind that should've dominated his life for good.
I didn't shoot at the buck.
It was raining continuously that night, and with it, was drizzling away my illusion of a perfect world that I held so dear.
****
The hunter's obsession(Ayush Kumar)
The hunter's obsession
By Ayush
***
Author's note:- This particular piece was written in less than twenty minutes as it was written to serve an assignment given to us in our Literature class. Our teacher, provided us with the opening line, '
It was raining continuously that night, when I stepped out...' and asked us to come up with something creative as fast as possible (because the period would last for 50 minutes and she wanted the students to come and read their creative pieces before the class.) This is my version of the tale, I hope you enjoy it. (I'm publishing it same as it was when I read it before my classmates.)
Regards,
Ayush.
***
It was raining continuously that night, when I stepped out; my rosewood bow, swayed across my brawny back,strapped with the stern string that lined my bare chest- and I strode onward.
The forest was silent, as if the life that roamed along its tall pines, was but a spirit that had subsumed into the yawning night by the sun set.
I was vigilant; my senses, alert, my fist, clenched and eyes set on the nothingness that expanded beyond the shimmering raindrops; and the dangling trees.
I hated it, the life of a lone hunter; I'd never loved the gash that my arrows left on thick animal skins, because their moan wasn't different to that of a human- I was a human, at least I liked to believe so.
All I searched for in the darkness of that hushed forest was a game; a big game to hunt and satisfy my insatiable thirst for approval- validation of my skills, from the wild.
I didn't have to wait for long, for dawdling along a frozen lane of shrubs, I encountered a buck.
It wasn't sprinting, it was lying relaxingly under the weeping night sky.
I immediately pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocking it on my bowstring,aimed at the buck.
All these days I'd shot animals, dead; for the pleasure I drove, giving up to my obsession, of killing, but this was different.
I didn't want to kill that buck because I was obsessed; I wanted to kill it because I was jealous of its peace.
How can a creature so numb and dull be at peace with life, while a fully-evolved species that humankind is, gives in to the same mind that should've dominated his life for good.
I didn't shoot at the buck.
It was raining continuously that night, and with it, was drizzling away my illusion of a perfect world that I held so dear.
****
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