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juliet "pigeon" humboldt [d5; fin]
Sept 20, 2020 23:40:25 GMT -5
Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Sept 20, 2020 23:40:25 GMT -5
claiming my cb from the scavenger hunt!
C A L L U M |
P I G E O N
Dad never kept the safety on his shotgun before Coyote and I, but all it took was one afternoon under the clear skies of five, my brother and I playing double-dog-dares and Coyote bet I wouldn’t take the gun down, wouldn’t stretch on my tiptoes to pull at the smooth, polished wood until it tipped over into my waiting arms, and yeah, maybe his eyes grew a bit wider at the site of it cradled in my arms but he had to bite his tongue, couldn’t admit that looking down the barrel of a loaded gun scared him because then I’d have it over him and that would be that, so instead he followed me out the back door, lagging two steps behind the bobbing end of the rifle hugged tight against my hip, and even though he didn’t have to he helped me prop it up on the porch ledge, the barrel resting on the splintered wood we’d just replaced last year but no, these times haven’t been kind and we’re only learning to mimic the landscape, so I focus one brown eye through the sight and shoot at the thin air, imagining that I’m shooting the ribs off the last remaining cows in the field, the ones that we still drop hay in the fields for despite the empty plate that Coyote and I licked clean the night before, asking for seconds but receiving none, nothing but a there’s no seconds left to share—I’d give ‘em to you darling, you know I would and how our mother’s voice sounded sweet enough to stick to our teeth, like sugar in the back of the throat, and I can almost taste it now, that sickly sweet so real that I don’t realize I’ve pulled the trigger, and the body of a bird falls, thuds
Pigeon.
