I never owned a bow and arrow as a kid but learned archery from my friend, Stanley Llewellyn. Using mud, we painted a target on an old tree in Llewellyn’s backyard. We were eleven and it was too easy, so we tried shooting into a gap – no wider than my thumb – in a stone wall taller than we were. When I finally got one through, it raced across the neighbor’s garden, pierced a ripe tomato and embedded in the left knee of seventy-three-year-old Reggie Smothers, who was pruning the hedge. Tomato pulp made the wound look worse. Although true, my defense – that I wasn’t aiming at anything – failed to absolve me. And poor old Smothers limped for the rest of his life.
End
B.T. Joy says
Really satisfying to read, Dave. I just love it when a snapshot manages to depict a universe.
Cezarija Abartis says
From a kid to a 73-year-old! This encompasses everything. Well done!
Every Writer says
There are a lot of things I like about this story. I won’t list them….I won’t point them out. I’m sorry about the bio. I’m working on formatting. The italics just don’t show up.
Shawn Simon says
So short, but encompasses so much. Made me smile, for sure. Nice story!