Knock. Pull. Aim. The tree, the wind. Waiting for the right time, the right moment. The right chance. You’re better, you’re much better. One in every second arrow you’ve hit. I’m not that good. I want to be that good. You’ll hit the target for sure. Why am I not that good? It’s not fair. But you missed. The wind stopped, or did it? I couldn’t feel it. The fletching stands atop the grass. The last arrow. Mine. Now’s my chance. I can do it. I’ll be equal, as it should be. Your failure gives my confidence. It was a game. Of course it was a game.
Draw. Knock. Pull. Aim. Hold. The tree ahead. Hold. Confident. Not thinking. More arrows. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Stop. Too late. Release. A whistle. A cry.
Blood.
Awake now.
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The Last Arrow
Submitted by Ashbark on March 27th, 2019
