the deer, 08.27.2023

the deer, 08.27.2023

you're driving alone at night, on a long, winding road on the outskirts of the forest, when through your windshield, you spot a deer.

a fawn, perhaps, standing on its delicate legs with its speckles like dappled sunlight upon its hide. the headlights of your car reflect in its large doe eyes, glinting ominously in the darkness the cloaks your surroundings.

you slow down to a halt, transfixed on the sight before you, inadvertently holding your breath in efforts to preserve this moment in time. just one abrupt movement, or a sudden noise will cause the young deer to flee into the black abyss of the evening.

feasibly, that wouldn't be so bad, as you recall an encounter you once had, not unlike this one, looking into the eyes of another fawn, a scene that has haunted you since that night. tethered to the back of your mind is a vision of a young deer laying alone in the middle of the road, half reduced to gore, as its empty eyes gazed into yours... your first understanding of physical death.

as you sit paralyzed, hands shaking at the wheel, the deer before finally moves. its fragile legs take a step towards your vehicle, and the deer bows its head before running off into the night. a different fate, a different night, but for you, the innocent creature will forever be acquainted with we are all victims of mortality.

Back to blog