This is my third entry to Friday Fictioneers, a weekly challenge to write a short story in 100 words prompted by a photo.
Photo prompt : © Dee Lovering
The Unfortunate Target.
Nathan cradled the rifle in his left hand whilst caressing the trigger with the other.
It was bitterly cold and he had been behind the tree for what seemed ages, pressed hard against it, seeking stability.
He counted for the umpteenth time the coloured balloons, arriving at the same number.
The snowfall seemed heavier and he worried that he wouldn’t see his target emerging.
A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder! “Come on Nathan it’s time to go home” Your sister’s coming.
He saw her come out as he was lowering the toy to his side.