Bird Shot – Sunday Photo Fiction

AnElephantCant deny he misses Scotland
The bens and the glens and the heather
Aye haggis for dinner
Is always a winner
It is such a pity about the weather

This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Just click on the link to see some awesome outdoor answers to this week’s excellent prompt.
But please cast an eye over AnElephant’s uphill struggle first.

Copyright Al Forbes

Bird Shot

It is late afternoon when I hear the first shot.
I am at the loch, starting to pack up my fishing gear.
Even my untutored ear can tell it is a shotgun that is being fired.
As I clear up and head back up over the braes to the road I hear it six or eight more times.
Then I see the first bird.
Difficult to identify, a sparrow probably, splattered across the heather.
I see six more before I reach the road, and my temper is up.
Heading towards a car maybe 100 yards down the road is a brute of a man, well over six feet and well overweight.
He has a shotgun in his left hand and is dragging a small frightened-looking woman with his right.
I drop my gear and run towards them, shouting.
They turn and watch me approach.
He looks huge and angry, ready for violence.
She is surprisingly young and pretty, they are an odd match.
What the hell was all that about, I bawl at him, gesticulating towards the glen.
Nothing to do with you, he replies, and things escalate quickly.
He is far too strong for me, begins to crush me.
I find my fishing knife and thrust it into his black heart.
Hurry, I say to her, we need to get out of here.
Thank you so much, she says, he was a horrible man, a control freak, a bully.
She pauses.
Just let me get my gun.