Day 45: March 22 (written)
A hunter stalks in the darkness. The spindly shadows of spruce and pine splay across its matted fur. Lifting its gigantic muzzle, the hunter sniffs the cold clear air. It bares its fangs, poisonous white, and releases an bloodcurdling howl. It has scented prey; the salty scent of fear. It will feed well tonight.
Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.