The Nameless Man

Late night in early November, cold and wet air surrounded the lone man standing in the forest. With the moon high and a heavy coat dawned he set out looking for his morning breakfast. Setting traps for catching rabbits and marking trees looking to open fields for hunting deer.

A misty sunrise soon came after a long night of preparing for the morning hunt, and with the orange sky above him he set off to the first marked tree to find a deer worthy of a morning meal. He climbed the tree and took his bow, that wrapped around his body, off and placed an arrow on the string, ready to pull back at any second.

Waiting for his pray to show, he stayed still with only the sound of the morning wind whispering to him, then he saw it. A large buck came out of the trees surrounding the field. He pulled back the arrow and readied to let go. When the buck came close to the tree he hid in he let the arrow fly. Right in the eye, deep enough to hit the brain and with the perfect angle that paralyzed the large male. The man climbed down from the tree and readied to skin the deer right where he took it down. He removed the arrow and it was intact enough to wash later and keep, he slit the throat to let as much blood out as he could and he begun to skin the male deer. He had a leather satchel that he put the meet he wished to keep in and a bigger back pack that he rolled the skin up to put in.

He finished carving the fresh deer and packed up all of his belongings and all that remained was blood, fatty meet that was unable to be eaten, and bones. He wondered through the woods and checked all the snares that he had set up earlier that night and only three came to be fruitful. Each of the three traps had a medium sized rabbit in them. He held them by their back feet and tied them up with some thick rope to carry back to his home.

He started to walk towards his small home. Home was a small 2 story shack and a smoke house in an open field surrounded by woods with a small winding road that went into the town nearby. A red carriage with a small barn and a single horse that was still young. The man reached his home and running towards him was his old blood hound he called Blue. She had been in his life since he found Blue on the side of the dirt road on the way to death.

The meat he had collected went into the smoke house. He went into his house and started to cook breakfast. Two fried eggs, fresh bread, and some leftover deer steak from the night before and when he was finished it was time to start his day.

He is a man that no one will ever know. A man who will forever be silent. A man who will never have a story. He is a man that was just like everyone else but he had a secret. He wasn't just a man who would live and die like all other men. He was special, he was different. He is now dead and will never be able to explain why he was so special, or why he was so different. He will never be able to tell his story. He will never have a name. He is now just a man. What is your story? You should tell it now before you become just like the Nameless Man.