Hunting


At the end of the day, Tom got into his SUV and told himself that he did not just put a clean shirt on and tuck it into a pair of khakis. Hunting season started. At least what he called 'the hunt' did. He had observed, followed his prey, and knew everything he needed to know. Habits, locations, way of moving, and more. He read books about how others succeeded and had practiced without being noticed. Today was the day and there was no reason to not feel confident neither for not being dressed well. He knew those wearing the corona-outfit, once called Aussie-outfit, attracted more attention than a man like him. Slowly he drove into the direction of the place where he hides and waits for his prey. He felt it was his lucky day and nothing could go wrong. At his destination, he unwrapped one of the energy bars he hid in the glove compartment for cases in need. After he wiped his mouth he put his face mask on.
"You never can be careful enough," he mumbled.
He stepped out of his car and smiled. No matter what the hunt would continue. The epidemic brought something good. Gloves and masks were required and these days no one would wonder, make remarks, or could describe what he looked like. No saliva, no fingerprints.

"Stay still," Dany said. "Help's coming."

He kept his eyes closed and tried to remember what had happened.

"Who are you?"

It took him time to pronounce the words. It felt as if his brains refused to work. His mouth felt dry. Was it important who talked to him? He was on a mission and help was the last thing he needed. What he needed was... He tried to remember what exactly he needed sure it was important.

"It's not your lucky day," the voice said. A voice that had introduced itself as 'Dany'. Can't? What kind of name was that. Vague he remembered the friend of a cousin was called Dany. Can't is a boy's name. Those parents were too lazy to think out a girl's name or was it ahead of their time?

The voice kept silent and he wasn't sure Dany was still around and what help he could expect.

"Prey won't wait for you to be ready," he suddenly heard his father say. Didn't he die ages ago? Why was that nasty man showing up and talking to him? Didn't he already do bad enough?

"I'm fine, leave me," he said while trying to sit down. "I have something important to do. I don't need your help!"

"Calm down, it's me. Don't you recognize me?" She tried to push him back on the floor.

'The prey won't wait', was what he thought. His father was right. If you want to do something right you had to do it yourself. All at once, he remembered his plan, the time he invested in observing, planning. It had to be perfect.

"It's in the back," he said, "the back of the SUV... I am fine, you can cancel the help."

"I'm sorry I hit you. You stood in front of my car and..."

'Driving and texting,' he thought. Nothing learned out of the past, still the same irresponsible person.

"My father drank and drove," he mumbled.

"I didn't drink I assure you I..."

A loud singer passed by at the moment Dany walked him to his car. He didn't notice how the hunter shot his prey without any hesitation or delay.

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The prompts for this weekend freewrite are provided by @mariannewest


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