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He had found her, the girl of his dreams, but some how she did not seem unfamiliar to him. He had been searching for the right woman most of his life and today the search ended. She lay in front of him. There in the darkness, belly to the floor, eyes fixed on the sites of the rifle that lay before her on the sandbag. He concentrated on her posture, left leg straight behind her with the front of her foot flattened toward the floor. Her right leg bent and supporting the weight of her body on the right side. Her left arm wrapped in the leather of the sling with her hand resting between the rifle and the sandbag, grasping the weapon firmly, but in control at all time. Her chest flat on the floor as she could get it with the right arm extended around the up the stock and the trigger finger resting beside the trigger guard not on the trigger. Her right cheek welded to the left side of the stock giving her eyes perfect alignment to the sites. She moves her finger to the trigger and applies light pressure while taking in a deep breath and exhaling half way and halts her breathing, she squeezes the trigger and the weapon explodes in discharge. She follows through with the shot, staying in position ready for the next round and the center of the target, a spot of about one eight inch across no longer exist. It was then that I knew that she was the one and only one for me. I was impressed.© This story started along time ago, but not in a land so far away. And seventeen years later it still has a happy ending. (Next)
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