Written for OLWG #53
Pamela wore a white ski jacket and trousers. She sat in the snow; behind a pile of deadfall wood, in dappled sunlight, on the side of the slope. She was almost invisible to the naked eye. Only her gun contrasted with the surroundings but she minimized that with light coloured netting that covered most of it. She watched as Drake moved slowly toward the house through the trees. She hadn’t seen him arrive. He must have come in via the lake.
“Oh, he’s good,” she thought to herself as she watched through her scope and waited patiently for a better shot. For almost twenty minutes she followed his movements as he made his way from tree to tree.
Something was nagging at her subconscious. Then it hit her, Drake would never be that slow on approach to a target. It would be a helluva shot, but he was within her range and she knew she could make it. Her breathing slowed and her finger tightened on the trigger. She waited for the target to pause again; with a tree trunk between himself and the kitchen window.
Then it hit her again, right in the middle of her back. Green paint spattered up and over her shoulders. She watched it land on the clean white snow in front of her. Slowly Pamela turned her head. Drake stood less than 15 feet behind her, his paint gun held low and ready.
“You’re getting better,” she said.
“I just got lucky,” he replied.
“Who’s that, then?” she asked. “Who’s that sneaking up to the back of my house?”
Drake came the rest of the way down and sat next to her; a quick embrace.
“That’s Stanley,” he told her. “You remember him?”
“The ginger haired one from the islands? Of course I remember him. He’s getting slow.”
“No, I’m getting slow. I asked him to give me plenty of time so I could out flank you.” He looked her in the eye, “We need you again, Pamela. We need you to clean up the mess we made in the jungles.”
She shook her head, “I’m not that kind of girl. Well, not any more anyway.”
“Right,” he nodded his head as though he was expecting the refusal. “I’ll tell the minister.” He stood and took two steps back before turning. With an ease of motion he glided halfway to the top of the slope, paused, “It’s OK, you know. I still love you anyway.” Then he was gone.
Pamela turned to look at Stanley. He was gone too.
This week, the prompts were:
- we need you again
- I love you anyway
- I’m not that kind of girl
Don’t think! Write!
You have 25 minutes but if it takes longer – just don’t tell anyone.