Into the night…

The car lurched, spun and rested on the embankment. Steam poured from the radiator, smoke wafted through the cold air.

Passersby wouldn’t be able to distinguish between the steam from the radiator and the last gasps passing through the passengers mouths.

Blood trickled down his chest, the deer’s antlers in his chest had pierced the belt and struck through the back of the seat, striking his son in the knees.

“I can’t breathe.” He gurgled. The blood filling his chest.

His wife, pieces of her face lying on the cars’ center console, tried to talk.

The deer, its lifeless body, lying on the remnants of the car’s hood, its warmth once kept inside, escaped through multiple points where the car had struck it lifting it into the car, antlers first.

Their breath was escaping, and the pain of the strikes sending adrenaline through their bodies in torrents, the wife, part of her jaw open to being seen by the world struggled to talk.

“I’m sorry,” She said, her mouth and lips no longer there to form the words she was forcing through her mouth.


I don’t often post stories on Medium, but this one came to me as I traveling during Thanksgiving and it felt right to post it here.

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