I was ten when I made my first kill; it was a large rabbit that fell victim to the killing.
It was a Saturday morning with my uncle and my cousin. I had stayed at their house the previous night as we were getting up early on the Saturday morning to go fox hunting on my uncles friends land, and he was also coming with us.
We all got up at eight o'clock and packed the gear into the car then set off for Blackwatertown. We arrived there shortly after nine, unpacked the car and set off across the fields. It had snowed the previous evening and it was a bitterly cold morning. The snow…
- Interior designers have been to school, furthered their education, and really know how to make a room look unique.
- Poems on Lost Love
- THE KILL
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