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The Screwed
Up Country \ Australia: Beware of the Dingos
The dingos are getting closer. I've been running from them for about a month
now. everywhere I turn there is a dingo. Dingo, dingo, dingo...I don't know
where I am. I must be near a river, because I can hear water running. Maybe
if I get in the river I could wash off this horrible stench of rotting flesh.
Earlier today I killed a boar and rolled around in its entrails, hoping to
smell like a boar, not dingo food. As you have probably guessed, it didn't
work. I can't even describe what I smell like now, all I know is: Dingos
eat boards, too.
I'm in a tree. It's morning and I woke up in a tree...How could I--what was
that sound? It sounded like a...baboon? No, baboons aren't in Australia...are
they? I wish I had my nature book...it sounds...a bit like a dog, actually--of
course! How could I forget I am being hunted by a pack of dingos? Now I
remember...I climbed the tree to be safe for a night. I wonder if I can just
stay up here...? No, the dingos must have picked up on my trail by now. I
must move on. If i can get into a town, I will be safe. The dingos are getting
closer, I must make a decision: stay in the tree, or make a run for it. There
is no use staying in this tree all day, so I must run as fast as I can.
Its about noon, I think. I found the river, so I'm safe for not. the dingos
can't swim. As soon as I am rested, I will move on at a leisurally pace.
Now that I am on the other side of the river, I have nothing to fear.
Home \
Screwed Up
Chronicles \
The Screwed
Up Country \ Australia: Beware of the Dingos
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