The woman who loved and lived with him knew this time he wasn’t joking. She tried to hold him back as she pulled at his arms and grabbed a handful of his pajamas, but he pushed her aside and walked out the door.
He breathed deeply trying to relax himself because he had last shot a gun 30 years ago when he had gone hunting for fowl with his father. It flashed back to him on how he killed a quail with one crisp shot from his father’s rifle. The shot from the rifle echoed through the forest as the quail fell from the sky and rustled among some bushes. If I did it before, he thought, I could do it again! Nothing succeeds like success!
The neighbor stood on the porch, but the dog next door was no longer dancing on the railing. With his finger on the trigger, his eyes searched around for the dog. The neighbor heard some rattling from the few leaves that were left on his apple tree, and looking up he saw the dog next door perched on one of the branches. The dog sat with its hind legs on a narrow branch, but was able to balance itself quite gracefully. Like a robin it sat and like a blue jay it chirped as the neighbor steadily pointed the gun with careful aim.
© Copyright Wawzenek 2012