The Elk

Sitting in the carport, drinking a beet smoothie,

A cinnamon Elk with a bucket on his antler looked at me truely.

Coming from the Bayou, I’ve never seen an Elk before, my stomach tremored, my mouth went dry.

With my elbow I knocked off the bucket as I ran by.

The elk chased me, out of the carpark, my heart pounding hard.

He ran into to the woods, and into the dark.

I pulled my jacket round me as I get in my car.

A lightbulb of an Idea formed, I need to find a bar.

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