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I took a drink of water from the stream behind my cave. I thought about my daughter how I missed seeing her face. I cupped my hands and filled them, splashed the water on my neck. Went home to sharpen spears and stones in case the beast came back.
That's how it goes, that's how it goes, when you're living in the age of stone.
The sun began to dip behind the edge of what I knew. I readied for my busy night by cooking rabbit stew. I stood the spears along my wall and chose the longest one. Then I hid beneath a bearskin rug to wait for it to come.
The fire crackled softly as its light slowly fell dim. I focused on the darkness but soon closed my heavy lids. I dreamed about my family living in that monster's gut. And I couldn't stop from trembling when its roar woke me up.
I scrambled from the bearskin and I reached out for my spear. My heart gave in to fear when I found out it wasn't there. But then I thought of something while the monster sucked me in. To lose this battle means I'll see my family once again.