“It’s Deer Season,” they said, as I wrap around my scarf and put on my super warm gloves while a kind soul opened the door offering the drizzling rain, a place to warm the fuck up.
There’s this place up the road that fattens up deer and for a fee; you can stay up in a cottage and hunt deer. “They guarantee a kill,” they say.
But thats not what they’re talking about. They want me to not run over the deer on the road. Be it that I already killed a raccoon last week.
It’s a tough crowd, folks. Tough nosey crowd.
Aztk Prncss by Shiloh Hunter
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