Fight for a Sprite

I saw

a

Sprite can sitting on a rock near a stream. The woods dense with green even moss. The clear water washing over smooth rocks. The animals came out as I came closer to the pop. In scraving red anger their eyes… they wanted to kill me. Because I was going for their Sprite. As I stubbornly tested it, getting even closer, they would mirror me, but our eyes passed between each other and the Sprite and two of them where squirrels, a couple possibly, foaming at the mouths. And the bunny, white albino -red and hissing- was very serious-about its demeaner, making little subtle jerks like a lineman just before the snap of the football. I stared at him not realizing until much later that I too had been keeping that bunny at bay with the same jerks of body, totally subconscious to my own position. I hated that bunny… but there were far bigger problems that I had. Such as the deer at my flanks only a little ways off that snorted like war horses at me from behind some fallen branches, with every micro move that I made or positioned myself to be closer to that Sprite they would snort in more agitated manner. The water still trickling. The deer scratched their hooves softly but intensely at the dirt and never took their eyes from me. The bunnies, yes somehow five more showed up for the impending brawling, nibbled at the lips until small trails of blood trickled down the snow-white furry chins. And the sun was going down. in the trees I heard laughter and when I looked up there were more squirrels that seemed to be occupying themselves by scratching at the branches with slow movements like someone sharpening a blade across a whetstone and they stopped laughing when I looked up for those milla-seconds but my eyes had to come down that quickly to make sure none of the others were going for the Sprite. The grey of the sky seemed to dull out so much that I knew, being outnumbered, it would be dark soon and I was not equipped to take on such a large number of over possessive critters. So, I took a quick look around and again back at the can my eyes already trying in stages to adjust to this damned-able ever-changing light. I knew that they were willing to die for this Sprite can and the Sprite there in it, and though I was close, I could not bring myself to be this committed to the acquisition of it -the risk wasn’t worth it- because deep down in my heart of hearts I knew I could just leave this place and go buy my own.

As I turned away, I heard a great uproar of laughter and hissing and snorts of derision and the further that I got from it, the rustling of leaves and trees and then back to an inevitable silence. I looked back. Barely seeing the outline of the can, no longer hearing the trickles of the brook, I picked up a good-sized rock from the ground and threw it as hard as possible at the Sprite…

It missed. You bastards.