Suddenly a commotion from the back of the room, a yound woman standing, bow in hand.
"Who needs a phony paper target, colored with bright ink circles," she said, "when your real
target is right in front of you."
She nocked an arrow, pulled back her bow, and the arrow flew true. It struck him in the heart and he fell to the floor, dead.
"Maybe next time you'll think twice before you cheat on me." Chuckling she added, "Of course there won't be a next time for him, and I saved the lot of you $29.95!"
(Ghost written for "Stephanie" who otherwise wishes to remain anonymous)
A sharp intake of breath as the arm strains against the resistance of the bow. A pause, fully flexed, arrow nocked, straight arm shaking slightly.
Potential energy. That is what physicists call the stored energy prior to the arrow's release. So much potential. A bulls-eye? A miss? Somewhere in between?
So much potential.
Aim higher? Lower? Left or right? Will the breeze have an affect?
Suddenly a commotion from the back of the room, a yound woman standing, bow in hand.
"Who needs a phony paper target, colored with bright ink circles," she said, "when your real
target is right in front of you."
She nocked an arrow, pulled back her bow, and the arrow flew true. It struck him in the heart and he fell to the floor, dead.
"Maybe next time you'll think twice before you cheat on me." Chuckling she added, "Of course there won't be a next time for him, and I saved the lot of you $29.95!"
(Ghost written for "Stephanie" who otherwise wishes to remain anonymous)
A sharp intake of breath as the arm strains against the resistance of the bow. A pause, fully flexed, arrow nocked, straight arm shaking slightly.
Potential energy. That is what physicists call the stored energy prior to the arrow's release. So much potential. A bulls-eye? A miss? Somewhere in between?
So much potential.
Aim higher? Lower? Left or right? Will the breeze have an affect?
So much to consider.
A slow exhale. The mind clears. The arm steadies.
The arrow flies.