Harley Springer was a big man, six, five at least; known in the Adirondacks for his hunting skills.  Especially bears.  He’d bagged over seven in the past three years.

“Don’t know what’s all the fuss over them television towers.  Damn city folks thinkn’ electro-magnetic waves will do somethin’ to the animals.”

Packing up his rifle, ammunition and skinning knife, Harley set off.

Hearing a tremendous roar, he spun around to face a black bear standing over ten feet tall.

Harley’s last thought as a massive paw struck him to the ground was “Them damn city folks were right.”

98 words