Suburban landscapes

Suburban Safari
Bare-chested against the sting of a winter rain, he crept, scissor-stepping his way down the driveway.
Fancy black leather slippers, filled with the finest 100 percent Australian sheepskin, covered his feet. The silk pajama bottoms, well, they were a Valentine’s Day gift after the baby was born in an effort to encourage him to stop running around the house naked.
In his hands was his Daisy Model 96 air rifle, with its Monte Carlo-styled real wood stock and its 700-shot capacity reservoir filled will real Daisy BBs.
He raised the gun to his cheek, checked the safety, and shot the Detwiller’s big mixed-breed mutt, Marley, squarely in the ass. Just as the dog squatted to befoul the lawn with his morning constitution.
The dog yelped and ran headlong into the periwinkle.
“Get in this house right now,” his wife hissed, hidden behind the screen door.
He strutted up the walk, slung the gun over his shoulder, opened the door, kissed his wife, took her coffee and gave her a playful pat on the hip.
“You have to admit, that was one helluva shot.”

2 comments:

Uncle E said...

That story hits me at just the right moment, T. As I have said before, you have a talent for the visual.
Great, just great.

Queen Of The Valkyries said...

Fantastic! Loved it.