o_18peu05u01b7716ipmne189ms1ha.pdf

With bits of blood soaked fur and viscera
clinging to its undercarriage. Julie cried
hysterically as Marty turned onto the main
road, leaving the almost psychotic laughter
of the coyotes quickly fading behind them.
Marty glanced over at Julie, who was still
lost in the emotional chaos of the attack.
“Julie,” he began.
The calm and directness of his voice was, by
intent, aimed at bringing her back into the
moment. Away from the terrorizing choir of
otherwise innocent creatures, now driven by
a malevolent need for human meat.
“Julie, they're gone. Alright?”
He pulled off to the side of the road and
reached over to her.
“Come here,” he said quietly.
Taking her gently by the arm, he pulled her
towards him and held her against his chest.
Her tears soaked through Marty's shirt as she
released a torrent of emotions, having
coming face to face with what could easily
be the most brutal of all possible ends.
People are not often drawn to the reality of
their demise, as it can leave one with the
realization of their insignificance. That their
lives will someday fall into the spiral of
faded memories and the uncertain darkness
of an existence without form.
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