Food Of The Hunt

We made the most out of the scarce amounts of mammals spared in the wilderness, by hunting, into our dinner while we had the miracle chance to do it. ''We must save our storage of cans and water.'', argued my father, who seemed to have the plan for our living in those days. ''At least we can have something out of the end of the week.'', suggested one of the men who saw our storage that we could only have by the week's end as a treat. ''If we keep having sent men into the south, we should find a threshold of food, bundles!'', said a woman in a happy manner, out of what we had left in our minds.

I had eaten perfectly cooked dear meat, just as I had years earlier, barely burnt out of its carnal colors of dinner chicken, and pure of parasitic filth, as my mother worried something could be very dirty in the animals of the forest. We had no crucial thinking about the Plague, yet we new that one could only become tainted by the direct waves from space. ''We'll be good here, and probably better.'', mentioned a man at the table, where we ate under the dead lantern that hung above. My mother and the other women served along the men, too, the withered vegetables found in storage and the buckets of peas and corn and some wild berries. ''It's not much that we'll favor, although it's something.'', said one of the men. I remembered how much I was used to the safety of my home, where I counted on for our family shared food, and the assurance of novelty posessions of things, and to know now that even in the days of retribution, the fight whent out in the inflaming of money and our holy literacies.

''What I would do to own a Bible to keep by my side.'', I muttered facing that empty dish of the meat I had slain. School became a longed-for sight in my memories, in that much of our days were now spent mostly in primal activity, mostly unefficient. ''All the paper and the pens for some good writting,'', I thought. ''All the brushes and the paint for some good artistic excersises.''. I had missed those longed things, now impossibly luxurious to us, that had once seemed meerely unimportant. Those things I had thought, in the looking of my emptied plate of dear meat, I might soon, if things go lower, think about how we had wasted ignorantly even the crisps of our bread, or the simple plain peels of our fruit.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed