In the Beginning

egg-721315_1280By Goathead Buckley

She split down at the bottom of her flesh.

Strings of ichor hung for a moment in the air before snapping. An egg the size of a bowling ball shuttered beneath, steaming in the grass in which it lay. I had thrown my pack down and run to the creek for water. Lit a fire to boil it, but too late. She died as I knew she would.

The question:  To let the abomination break free on its own or to forgive it its first moment of weakness?

Or to bring down the boot before things got out of hand?


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