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  • Writer's pictureJeff Bacon

Thanksgiving

I ran but wasn’t fast enough. He caught me. He was too strong. I could not escape. He threw me in a cage. What happened to my family? Did they get away?


The cage was strong. I tried to break the lock on the door, but failed. He sat on the steps of his house with a stone, sharpening his knife and hatchet. I lost all hope. This was the end.


I watched as he setup a table next to an old tree stump. He laid his tools on the table, then walked over to me and opened the cage door. I ran toward the door and tried to escape. He grabbed me by the neck and dragged my body towards the stump.


He forced my head down on the stump. He held me with one hand as the other reached for the hatchet. He raised it up in the air, paused, then brought it down. As the axe cleaved my neck, I prayed I would not return to this world as a turkey again.

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