The night was bitter, the cool brisk air cut Josephiahs nose. The stars littered the ground like leaves on the ground in fall. He was all alone, not frightened but self aware of every detail happening around him. His tent had fallen into disrepair and had holes on the side letting the sharp air blow through it like an open window. There would be no sleep. Josephiah wanted some fire wood to keep his skin warm and to cook the rabbit he had caught earlier in the day to all his stomach cramps. He had stationed himself by a tall elm tree that had limbs low enough where he could climb, he grabbed he axe and climbed the tree, he found a nice branch and sat himself upon it. He started hacking at the part in front of him not realizing the tree was mostly dry-rotted. The 3rd swing was his last. The branch fell, as Josephiah tried to catch himself from the hard Earth below his axe had flipped around ending up impaling him though the chest and out between the shoulder blades. After awhile he stopped trying so hard to gasp for air, instead he turned around watching the night sky knowing this was his end.
