
With a gun range in her house, Loreen never had to venture far to fire her weapons. Totally soundproof from the rest of the property, she sent rounds down to the paper targets, striking head shots and center mass every time. She had become skilled at the rifle and pistol. When she had mastered the thought of expending rounds into these targets, she rushed to purchase more guns which amounted to close to fifty thousand dollars. The smell of the carbon invigorated her. That minor shock she felt in her shoulder motivated her when she fired rifles. Never did she think she would ever use her firearms in anger. She did, however, know to tote a twenty-two just in case things got dicey.
Sights of casings shooting off like fireworks also enlivened her. The rapid pace of the assault rifle on automatic gave her a rush. To consider all of the cleanup didn’t deter her from enjoying the sight of the muzzle flash as she unloaded magazines and cartridges.
Loreen’s property sat on sixty acres. As she ambled down to the outdoor firing range, she used her pistol like a sword. Each press of the trigger boosted her. The thought of possible danger crossed her mind. Soon, she had moved onto a machine gun. This behemoth proved to be a mechanical and engineering darling. The control and precision of something like this excited Loreen. At last she retired from the sport.
By looking over her results, she had discovered she had earned a possible in every attempt, meaning she always hit black. As she made her way back to the house, she ensured that there had been more headshots with her pistol fire than with any other weapon. A breath entered her nostrils. She sensed the power of the smoke.
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
Read the details and reap the spirit of each vowel.
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