Roast Beast
My uncle threw the best Christmas dinners.
He lived way up in the mountains, and when you arrived, you could always smell the roast cooking. It was never turkey, but no one complained because it tasted so good.
When I was 11 we arrived early, and there was no roast. My father sternly asked why he wasn’t prepared.
My uncle said, “I haven’t got it yet. We’ll have to hunt.”
They went out that night, and it was the last time I saw them.
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Jacob Marsh 