This week with Arlene and Jeff:
...Just as the sun was beginning to lighten the eastern sky, she heard a sound. Still not seeing anything, she drew the slingshot back halfway while scanning the weeds and undergrowth around her in the faint golden light of the approaching morning.
After a couple of moments of staring at where she thought she had heard a sound, she suddenly realized that she was staring at a pheasant that had appeared almost like magic not ten feet in front of her. With years of playing with their “toys” as they prepared for the yearly contests, she slowly stood, even as she drew back and fired, all in one many-times practiced motion. The pheasant’s head didn’t exactly leave its body, but the effect was quite similar. The bird fell over without so much as a squawk.
Dessie almost ran over to pick the bird up, but reason took over. I haven’t heard any of the other pheasants make any noise. It would be better if they never knew what happened to this one.
Step by quiet step, she eased over, picked the bird up and just as quietly, made her way for the next hundred yards. She was so tense all the way that she had to fight an impulse to giggle.
Finally, she was far enough away from the area that she felt she could walk normally without startling the remainder of the flock. When she arrived back at the campsite, the sun was just beginning to peek over the mountain...
Have a goodun;
Roust