a precious prey
He crouched behind the bush, sweat droplets sliding down his forehead. He didn't dare make a sound. The sun blazed. As they cradled the steel-barreled elephant gun, his hands began to quiver. He could barely grasp the trigger with the moisture on his fingers. 100 yards out was his prey. He had ventured into the jungle before, but never to hunt such magnificence. His cold blue eyes widened as he glimpsed the beautiful ivory that would soon be his. The natural sounds drowned out; he could only hear the cocking. With the target in his sight, he caressed the trigger.
He crouched behind the bush, sweat droplets sliding down his forehead. He didn't dare make a sound. The sun blazed. As they cradled the steel-barreled elephant gun, his hands began to quiver. He could barely grasp the trigger with the moisture on his fingers. 100 yards out was his prey. He had ventured into the jungle before, but never to hunt such magnificence. His cold blue eyes widened as he glimpsed the beautiful ivory that would soon be his. The natural sounds drowned out; he could only hear the cocking. With the target in his sight, he caressed the trigger.
posted by sean harrison at 5:10 PM
1 Comments:
Sweat sliding down his forehead. "Droplets" is what I would consider overwriting. Cold blue eyes might be a bit melodramatic. What were the natural sounds? But I do like that he "caressed the trigger."
Post a Comment
<< Home