The Hunting Cabin
by Brian
Day One: The Voice in the Box
Richard entered the code on the electronic lock pad. The pad made a series of beeps and the door unlocked.
Richard opened the door and stepped into the cabin that was to be his home for the long weekend.
He flipped on the light and saw an entryway constructed of light-colored wood with cubbies built into the wall. He saw a picture that said, “Teach a man to fish and he’ll spend all day playing with his jig.” There was also a picture of a black Labrador with a duck in its mouth and a taxidermied pheasant mounted on a board.
Richard went upstairs. On the next floor was the kitchen, living room, and bedrooms. Above the fireplace was a series of mounted animal heads — deer, mountain goat, pronghorn, gemsbok.
Richard felt somewhat out of place, as he was not a sportsman. He did not hunt or fish. He could not field dress a wild boar. But he was also not willing to splurge for a “luxury cabin,” so he had chosen the “sportsman” on the rental website. Staring at this barbaric décor was bearable, he supposed, at a savings of $250 per night. If it became too much, he could always burn the goddamned things in the fireplace.