It was best to think of this as an intellectual exercise of the dynamics of trajectory, speed and the play of the elements on the bullet on its way to...its own violent death.I eased gently on the hair trigger, images of the startled leap of an antelope made when hit with a high-power rifle. In another world now, I barely heard the shot or the quick kick of the recoil. I'd held steady and had a quick flash of something falling back, streaks of red coating the clump of grass he'd been behind.I. It was warm and squishy and about ¾ inch long. On the way out the front door I detoured to the downstairs toilet and flushed it away. They wouldn’t be sewing that back on. Careful not to screech my tyres I sped off down the street thankful once again that we lived so far from the neighbour’s houses. Half way back to the garage I dumped my pockets into a roadside bin. Ten minutes later I was back in the small garage that I called work. I called over Pete and Mike, the two grubby, oil stained. More

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