The fog blinded his vision. The double barreled gun aimed at the subject, he fired, and missed. Startled and narrowly escaping death, the animal darted into the distance. Solomon was too antique for this game. He had already caught two rabbits, a small savage and some type of fox. Not bad, he thought. Slinging the numb(p) animals all over his left shoulder, the hunter began the journey home. Solomon quite enjoyed brisk in the woods. He had found an abandoned cottage close and spent the cold Canadian winter with the animals of the wilderness. He stepped into the board and coughed at the musty, mildew smell that felt like it was already obturate his throat. Solomon looked around. The yellow paint was peeling off the walls in strips and bubbles, exposing the hoar wall beneath. The battered, deep brown wood floors creaked as he stepped farther in. There were stains in several places on the wood, rust-coloured smears as he bent to look more virtually at them. They loo ked like old blood. Dust webs floated in the air, promptred up by the faint breeze he felt coming from the entry behind. They were attached to the ceiling and fixtures somewhere in the shadows higher up his head. Solomon stood motionless, there was no sound. It was like the air smothered sounds and clogged the breeze.
Another door on the other side of the room, nutty open a few inches, but it was impossible to conk what was beyond it, or hear if anyone was there. Another faint cause of air, this time from the door on the other side of the room. Cautiously, Solomon approached the entrance, peering by means of the small crack. Nothing. He unloaded his shotgun and hurled the carcasses into the corner. currently after! , Solomon cut up a rabbit, slowly letting... If you want to survive a ripe essay, order it on our website:
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