The Hunter is giving up on the antelope...

Bruised and battered, safe in the hands of the Hunter but what happens to the brave animal if the healer leaves without looking back? (Photo credit: Google)

Life is only truly beautiful when our fates are in our own hands: days of sunshine, fascinating colors of the rainbow (not the ones adopted by the El Jibiti people), and the happiness that comes with vulnerable love, pure like rain, in its truest form.

Clear those goosebumps; it's bad news. Not without a fight, but the hunter is giving up on the wounded antelope. The latter was last seen beaming with sheepish smiles, celebrating another chance, ready to roam the wild but with the bells of the hunter around the neck, still ailing but in high spirits.

Every human has an elastic limit; regardless of those pretty smiles, papering over heartbreaks, and frustrating cracks, every one of us has the right to throw in the towel when our corners catch fire. It’s probably the worst news to anyone in this particular shoe, but I can understand the Hunter’s resolve.

Let’s talk about this brave hunter, shall we? From the first hi to what can possibly be the last hurray, the aura of a magician, the flair of a porn star, the serenity of a sage, the fierceness of a prophet, and the puerility of a teenager.

You can’t exactly fault a man who goes into the wild and fights demons and half-humans to wrest home the game; this high-energy antelope knew the rules. There’s a reason the last guy at the villa said it’s easier to manage animals than humans; I am inclined to agree; that’s me stealing Celestina’s lingo.

The antelope was busy with snails under the light at the farm. In a city of snookers, booze, and sinning visitors, she had everything in her loins to ruin the night for the wandering antelope. In that silk dress and a handbag that looked more like the devil’s safe, it didn’t end well.

Hehehe, the stubborn grasscutter won’t give up, but the doctor is walking away from the treatment table; the days of aspirin and ampicillin are over; she wants to be free; she wants to fly; weep, not child; there are consequences for everything.

Maybe we may have to start planning the burial of the antelope; the wounds in sacred places are too exposed for survival. P.O. insists it’s game over if the supposed healer walks; even the 70k guy affirms that. You must be at peace when you realize there’s little you can do with shackles on you in a deep hole.

There's a particular street named after the Hunter, full of blissful experiences. Who remembers that morning? that guy who got married recently was waiting at the gate, and the reckless antelope was busy taking pills from the Hunter, I don't think either of them will forget that in a hurry.

This will come at a huge price, most likely going to end in chaos. For the ones that want to send the Hunter to the war front for the upcoming festival of life for the departed sweet tigress, the ones that named the hunter their warrior’s muse, especially on tough tasks, and the ones that can’t wait to oil her feet, it’s a hell of a sad story if nothing changes.