The sun was going down. It was the dark just before night. The cold was biting and the air stung my skin. I saw movement along the tree line. Was it a shadow? The dusk playing tricks on my eyes? No. I could see the silhouette clearly now. Broad body and full rack. It slowly made its way onto the green. I shifted uneasily and it looked up sharply, suspicious of the situation now.
I squeezed the trigger. It fell. That’s the way it goes with those types of things. Cause and effect. There was the rush but then there was a fall. It was a strange sensation. Taking a life, no matter how small a life, is a life all the same. With these hands. It was my doing, There really is no other way to state it.
My father smeared the blood on my face. That was a ritual for a first kill. I wasn’t old enough to shave. I was proud and sad all at the same time. Its eyes were open. I remember that too. They still haven’t closed.