The old man opened his eyes and knew the weather was about to turn wet. His knees ached. Elwood, the hound, was snoring at the foot of the bed. The old man got up. The hunting cabin was cold.
He lit a fire and tapped coffee into the percolator. The turkey hunt would commence at sunrise.
He picked up his whiskey flask and filled it with 9 ounces of Kentucky bourbon. The copper was cold. Comforting. Elwood farted. Then the rain started. It was going to be a good day.
The Diederich Journal 