Aron Taylor

“At age eight I became a man. My dad took his boys to road trip the west coast. My brother slept up front. I spread out in back. Speeding through Oregon we smashed into the back of a 16-point elk. It should’ve killed us. The windshield caved, spraying my father’s face and knuckles with elk shit, blood, and safety glass. A side mirror whizzed over our sleeping heads. Something flew into the back seat, flopping right onto my cheek. ‘Twas the elk’s dick.”


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