Monday, 13 June 2016

Taking Aim Writing


Taking Aim


Squelch, my foot buried itself in the cozy, colossal mud blanket on a cold day.  ‘’Welcome to archery at the narrows,’’ spoke a tall, lanky man, holding a big beige coloured bow.  Proudly but nervously I stepped up to take my turn.  I knew this was my time to shine.

My turn!  Before I knew it there was a notorious bow draped in my left
hand  I gripped it closely and tightly.  Carefully I inserted the long, thin arrow. ‘’Pull back!’’ yelled Ari continuously. Pulling  back the sticky elastic string I hesitated.  The arrow was like a prisoner trying to escape from his cell.  Aim, aim, aim…

Ping! The long arrow shot off as I pulled the trigger.  Poor target! The target must have experienced some excruciating pain. Score!

By Eve  17/05/16

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