Guns

The first time I fired a gun I new it was a bad thing. It was a hunting rifle with a scope. the first few shots went wide. But once I learned to squeeze and not pull the trigger, I realized that what ever I put the little X on exploded. Any thing would explode, just by moving the X to it- The wine bottle, The can of beats, Children’s toys.
I thought about what it would be like to put the little ex on someone’s ear, on the ridge above their eye. What would it be like to put the little X on the knee, elbow, wrist. What would it be like?
After I begrudgingly returned the gun to the friend who had taken it upon himself to introduce me to this intoxicating object, I vowed never to fire a gun again.