Trained Sight (Otherwise Untitled)
#186 of Short Stories
Cadet Clip, Jackalope in training, gets in some range time.
~ With a sweltering sun above and lingering dust from the previous trials downrange, Cadet Clip drew in a pensive breath.
~ The clanks of resetting mechanisms and crackle of public address system filled in the silence. Cadet Clip exhaled, slowly.
~ At the rattling tone, her focus zoned into the currently sideways targets downrange and the weight of the revolver in her hands as it rested against the table infront of her.
~ Upon the whirr of the first target rotating into sight, the jackalope brought her grandfather's old service revolver to bear on the rings of circles, the heavy metal cool to her palms and lockwork's operation like a glide of thought.