He heard the shot crack in the distance as he floated in the cool air at the top of his swing. By the time he’d fallen back to the ground, a faint cry joined the remains of the gunshot echoing off the rocky hillside below him.
Connor dug his heels into the muddy ground and scrambled out of the swing pit. He rotated in place and scanned around the small clearing, but didn’t notice anything interesting. Not that he was even sure what he was looking for.
A tangled mesh of trees and brush surrounded the clearing on three sides. One tree stood apart from the others and supported his simple rope and board swing. Opposite the swing, the clearing fell away down a steep hillside that ended at the outskirts of the little village that he’d called home for all of his nearly five years. A narrow path snaked off into the trees to his right, his small footprints still visible in the mud from his journey up less than an hour before.
Connor tried to peer over the edge of the bluff, but was blocked by brush and the few straggly trees that had managed to grow between the rocks. He jumped in place a couple times, but the few inches he gained only revealed more sky. Frustrated, he kicked at the ground, sent a rock flying into the weeds.
That was it then. All over.
He sighed, scuffed the ground with the tip of one of his Keds, hitched up his short trousers and set off down the hill back to their little clapboard house. He was going to miss old Bouncer.
But even worse than that, never again could Connor get away with taking a dump on the carpet.
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Anonymous