Harold Was a Mighty Hunter

Werna wakes up in a fast unnaturally strange, unfamiliar way. Her body is racing, she is disoriented. What time is it? She looks at the clock. It is 5:23. Harold has been caught in one of his traps! She knows it without knowing how she knows. Her body cannot settle down. She is filled with terror. It is dark out there. He has probably been hunting for at least half an hour. Where would she begin to look, in the dark? She does not even know where he puts his snares. She tries to picture him trying to gnaw off his leg, the way so many animals have done, to escape his snares. Harold is a mighty hunter, and a vicious husband. Angry when sober. Mean when drunk. Mostly mean now. She sees a flashback of what he looked like at nineteen, before he became addicted. He was gorgeous, beautiful smile, and heart of gold. Never angry, even-tempered, sweetest person she had ever met. She rarely saw that Harold now. She took another look at the clock. 5:27 a.m. Rolled over and went back to sleep.