Postcards From The Edge

Postcards From The Edge
Tales of (mis)adventure from abroad

Besieged

Besieged

namibia stamp

First came their smell: foul. Then came their laughter: maniacal. But I never saw them; I didn’t dare get out of the tent. There were 3, or was it 6? The fire outside was dying out and wouldn’t hold them back much longer. Then what? The hyenas were getting closer. I was shaking, facing the entrance—a thin piece of fabric with broken zippers. I was gripping my hunting knife in one hand and my bear spray in the other, the safety was off. A bottle of cooking fuel and a lighter were at my feet. I had a plan.

-Yannick



There are 3 comments.

  1. comment number 1 by: J-P

    Honestly, did you shit in your pants?!?!
    hahaha I`m just kidding. I`m sure I would have do so.
    Finally, how did the story (or suspense) finish?!
    J-P

  2. comment number 2 by: Yannick

    Maybe not shat, but I think I might’ve peed… 🙂
    Well, it was a very very long night (the hyenas were not the only visitors that night). Luckily, my (ridiculous? genius?) plan did not need to be implemented, they eventually left. I didn’t sleep though, and I think I lost a few kilos with the constant increased heart rate.

  3. comment number 3 by: Martina

    well, now that I’ve heard the full story, I would say your plan was neither ridiculous or genius, but rather pure desperation … in other words, true genius at the time of the event, but quit ridiculous in the after thought… 😉

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