THE OLD PROSPECTOR

BY TEAM ZACK!

 

The old prospector raised his rusty pickaxe, determined to make one last big strike. For a second, his tired old arms wavered, and his confidence followed. Maybe he was too old. Maybe he should have given up a long time ago. No! He could do it. He had to do it. He brought the pickaxe down with the strength of Heracles wrestling Cerberus, and the dogged determination of a hungry pit bull bringing down a boar. Nothing short of God himself could stop the miner now. As the pickaxe neared it's target, for a fleeting second he was 19 again, making his way to the mines of California, when the world seemed so fresh, so full of opportunity. Now he was an old man of 65, and decades of hard labor in the dark mines had made him bitter and cold. His axe made contact. The crack of the old steel arriving at it's destination echoed for miles around. He took a step back, and wiped the sweat from his brow, his problems erased with one fell swoop of his pick. Months of planning, executed with flawless speed, had come to fruition. He was now free from his wife's incessant nagging, and the multiple insurance policies he had recently taken out on her were quite generous with mining accidents.

 

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