The Wolf

On the way to work on Sunday morning, I was attacked.

Nothing could have seemed more unlikely, but like as not, it happened.

So it was a 4am start at the bakery as usual, means that I set the alarm in the hut for about 3am, crawl out of the warm tomb of my blankets and sleeping bags and quickly throw on my boots and run through the bush to get to my truck, as the cold cuts through you and follows you like a predator.

I got in my truck, and to be honest, I had enough sleep that night.

I was driving down the logging road and chilling out with the thoughts of books and such in my head. One particular book lead to the particular scene of a wolf biting off the fingers of a grown man, than…

BOOM!!!

I was attacked.

I am not joking with you.

A wolf jumped out and attacked me.

My heart skipped a beat and the shot of adranaline that hit me was enough to kill a small horse. The old instincts of fight or flight kicked in, and I knew what my body was deciding, than…

like all silly scares, I realized the next instant, it was the white bum of a deer that had, fast as lightning, jumped away from me, around the corner of a hill.

HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA. Oh my god, I thought I was a goner right there and then.

I was shaking the fear was so sharp.

Oh well, a deer looks a lot like a wolf right??

Also a thought of moving into that little lot that guy marcel has, doesn’t actually get me that excited and I think I might still stick it out, out here until I get really destroyed. Or at least that is this 5 minutes of thought telling me.