The news traveled fast from farmhouse to farmhouse. Mothers gathered in their children and latched the doors. Farmers loaded their shotguns and walked their fencerows.
The six Smith children were out gathering wildflowers—from the fifteen-year-old girl who laughed at him to the five-year-old with a handful of daisies—when the blue-ribbon marksman cocked his double-barrel and took aim, from youngest to oldest, reloading thrice.
He won the turkey shoot at age twelve, took that blue ribbon in marksmanship at thirteen, and whetted out justice at fourteen. She shouldn’t have laughed it him.
4 comments:
Wow. Very powerful few words.
Vanessa, Thank you!
The story so complete with and shocking surprise in a few words. These days one does have to be careful who one laughs at.
Thanks Tony. No place feels safe anymore.
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