Jeans, black v neck lightweight sweater, nothing special, just another morning to be spent throwing lead at paper and steel targets in preparation for...competition. She noticed that her instructor’s car wasn’t in the parking lot yet, but knew he would be here soon enough. Twelve years of practise, and she was still learning. Pushing open the glass doors and smiling at the rangemaster, Paul, she gives him her customary wink and heading for the shooting bays. It was quiet this morning, the bays. A loud clap of thunder shook the walls and sound reverberated inside my little room. It had been raining non-stop, lightning and thunder playing off one another in the distance. Perhaps it was getting closer, the fury of the storm, the wrath of someOne that didn’t exist. I craned my head and looked out the window. Water pelted my face in icy sheets. The rain was pouring down heavily and the sky overhead was so gray, so near to black. Was it daytime? Or was it night? I had lost track hours and. More

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