Gunfire: The Target
It was not a technically challenging shot to make, not in comparison to some others. A stationary firing position, to a stationary target. Wind conditions were calm, and I had calculated yardage well in advance. That the target was nearly third of a mile distant did not concern me unduly.
I had every confidence in my equipment and my self. Tonight, what troubled me was that for the first time, I would be firing at a fellow countryman.
The Minister for Foreign Relations, to be precise, who was meeting fellow traitors to the crown for dinner tonight. I expected him to exit onto the balcony for a cigar any moment now, whereupon I would simultaneously destroy the head of the snake and teach the body a lesson.
The door to the balcony opened, and he stepped out. A handful of men I did not recognise, and the target.
Accompanied by his wife.
And two children.
My finger, already taking up the slack on the trigger, froze.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
Average reader rating 5.00/5
A glimpse into that horrible night. Superbly written as usual.
- #227 Posted 7 years ago
- 5 out of 5
- Published 7 years ago.
- Story viewed 18 times and rated 1 times.
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