Ancient Carob

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Parts 1
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Reads 7
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

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Portugal, 2010-2011 
I spent three months working as a conservation assistant, re-wilding the 6ha grounds of a holiday resort in Sesmarias, near Albufeira in the Algarve.All Rights Reserved

albufeira algarve ancient carob carobtree conservation essay nature natureconservation naturewriting portugal seismarias tree wildlife

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Ancient Carob
Sun, Oct 28, 2018

1 part

Ancient Carob
Sun, Oct 28, 2018

#4naturewriting

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It was supposed to be his last day on the job. Unluckily for Killjoy, this crazed, cannibalistic beast tried to make it his last day on Earth. Killjoy had taken this god-forsaken mission for a little bit extra money before he would quit. He was tired. The middle-aged bounty hunter had etched his name across American mythos after decades of killing, gunslinging, and doing dirty work for one too many fat, greedy pigs. It was easy work, but the man can't get any older after years of doing it. And with a wife at home who he visited only so many times he could them on his one hand, and a daughter whose face he can barely remember year to year, it was time to hang up the boots. But when he is told about one job that could potentially set not only himself and his family for life, but for generations to come, Killjoy decides to screw it and do one last mission. The money he made was good, but not enough to last them. The reward? The deed to a gold mine. And the job? To investigate some desolate woods for missing people. It was as easy as they came. What a load of crap. The second Killjoy stepped foot into those forests, he knew something was not right. Desecrated bodies, the eerily empty mines and woods devoid of any light or humans, and the gnawing hunger that grew in him no matter how much he ate through his rations. Something was not right. And when Killjoy laid his eyes on it, he knew it was either fight or die.

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No Bullets for the Beast

It was supposed to be his last day on the job. Unluckily for Killjoy, this crazed, cannibalistic beast tried to make it his last day on Earth. Killjoy had taken this god-forsaken mission for a little bit extra money before he would quit. He was tired. The middle-aged bounty hunter had etched his name across American mythos after decades of killing, gunslinging, and doing dirty work for one too many fat, greedy pigs. It was easy work, but the man can't get any older after years of doing it. And with a wife at home who he visited only so many times he could them on his one hand, and a daughter whose face he can barely remember year to year, it was time to hang up the boots. But when he is told about one job that could potentially set not only himself and his family for life, but for generations to come, Killjoy decides to screw it and do one last mission. The money he made was good, but not enough to last them. The reward? The deed to a gold mine. And the job? To investigate some desolate woods for missing people. It was as easy as they came. What a load of crap. The second Killjoy stepped foot into those forests, he knew something was not right. Desecrated bodies, the eerily empty mines and woods devoid of any light or humans, and the gnawing hunger that grew in him no matter how much he ate through his rations. Something was not right. And when Killjoy laid his eyes on it, he knew it was either fight or die.

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