Wednesday, April 6, 2011

LION HUNT By Andrew, age 8

My dad is a hunter. He hunts big cats in Mexico. One day my dad went out to the hills in his green army fatigues. Eagles flew through the sky. Flying lizard glided to the trees. He stayed all night. He got his gun out. He heard a growl and saw two red eyes glaring at him from a cave. It was a lion. Orange mane stood up around its face. A wild pig hung from its teeth.

No hunter had ever shot a lion before. My dad imagined that the lion was going to eat me. He shot but the lion did not die. He got mad and he said, “It’s you time to die!” And he shot the lion. It did not move. My dad touched the lion’s neck. There was no pulse.

About the Author

My name is Andrew. I am eight years old. I live with my mom, my three sisters and a brother. I like to pick up my sister and carry her. I am good at spinning the stick. I want to be good at making beats and rhythms. When I grow up I want to be a fireman so I can save people’s lives. Night confuses me because the stars look like eyes. If I had one wish I would wish to be a night crawler so I can disappear. I am also the author of John and the Snake and The Ice Monster’s Anger.

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