“I want to join the cause.”
The chunky-tan-man behind the metal desk leaned back and looked up. He pursed his lips, folded his arms, and said, “and why should we consider you?”
“I have a wicked aim with a shotgun and I am willing to do anything to protect my family and everything I love.”
The tan-man pursed his lips again, considering, before standing up, “Alright, follow me.” Awkwardly, he limped to the door, pushed it open, and stepped outside. He gestured to one of the shotguns on the table, “Pick one and come stand on the X.”
Holding an orange plastic sling, the tan man observed. He knew everything about shotguns – its strengths and weaknesses. Guns are guns, many people would think but it’s absolutely false to him. He raised that question to his father many years ago. “Everything has strengths and weaknesses,” was his father’s answer.
“Ready?” He said. When he sensed a nod next to him, he flung the clay pigeon into the sky and listened for the boom of the shotgun.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.