When my dad came homehe was not my father, but a king an emperorhe had not a gun but a scepter in his hand.It had the power to start or stopmy adulthood.

He said, “I’m home.”We were in the woods out back.I had spent my whole lifelooking forward to this,I would spend the restdreading it.Then suddenlyout of the early morning mistcame the deer in its entirety.I saw itThe deerI leveled the gunLike dense lead in my hands.As soon as I fired the gunI collapsed into an endless space.

I remember my last viewas if it were a movie frame(cut to black)I saw the deer fall.We both went at the same time.I still recall that fateful day,when I traded a deer’s lifefor my own pride.