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I'll be on that hill

Stuff I dig, stuff I think, stuff I've seen
  • O'Donnell
  • I'll be on that hill
  • Whiskey and Ice Cream
  • Ken Myers: The True and the Beautiful
  • Contact
  • © Copyright Notice
“

There’s a sweet spot on a rifle trigger where just an ounce more of pressure will fire it. There I held my finger, waiting for my shot. Twice, and then three times, the barrow paused, almost at the right angle but never quite. A fourth time, and he paced again. I grit my teeth and snorted, tense and rigid. He circled around the pen again and barely glanced at me.



Into the muddle of “dammits!” and “stand stills!” in my head, I fit a prayer for his swift death, then exhaled slowly. On his next circuit, he paused a fifth time, the spot just twelve inches from the muzzle, my eyes on it, his eyes on me. I gave the trigger that one more ounce.



In a thousandth of a second: he jerked his head as if startled by the pop; a black hole appeared on the bridge of his snout; he screamed and rammed the fence by Rusty, shoving his snout underneath the wire and lifting the entire panel.

”
— Me, in a piece I had titled “One Shot”, but now called “Dispatch from Idaho: Shooting the Hog” over at Curator Magazine.

November 28, 2012
Tags: writing, food, pigs
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