Years ago, 

In a land not too far away,

I was hunting,

Deer was my target,

I had access to private property,

I had gained it through a hunker,

Armed with a .308 rifle,

And a Pepsi strapped to my chest,

I moved through the dense woods,

In hopes that I may find my quarry,

Twelve hours into this hunt,

I spotted a twelve point buck,

Up on a hill,

Set against the sunset,

It was perhaps the most beautiful animal,

I had seen,

It was too far off for me to get a clear shot,

I had to crawl beneath a barbed wire fence to see it better,

In the middle of my crawl,

I heard a bang of a gunshot,

I felt a warm, sticky liquid start to roll down my chest.

Had I been shot?!

The buck keeled over and fell down.

The shot had been from another hunter,

That saw the same deer as me.

The warm sticky liquid,

Had been my Pepsi,

As it trickle down my stomach and into my pants,

Where it mixed with another warm liquid.