ARDOR Literary Magazine

ARDOR Literary Magazine - Issue Three, September 2013

Issue One, Published January 2013

Issue link: http://ardorlitmag.uberflip.com/i/169836

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(cont.) my chest. I imagined us looking like something we weren't, something more badass. Holding a gun gave me that feeling, like I was untouchable. We walked almost all the way back to the truck and turned. We were about fifty yards from the stumps. The milk jug looked miniscule and less dramatic from here. "You ready?" he said. I set my shotgun on the hood of the truck. I could see dad wanted to say something about the paint job, but he didn't. Instead, he winked at me. Then he turned and fired. The shot rang loud, and I clapped my hands to my ears. Dad opened his mouth wide like a man trying to yawn on a plane. "Holy shit, that was loud," he said. It was the first time I'd heard him curse. "Holy shit, that was loud," I repeated. "Did I hit it?" "You hit the grass," I said. "I saw dirt fly up." He handed the gun off to me and went riffling through the glove box of the truck. I noticed he hadn't set the safety, and I did it myself. He came back with bits of tissue he'd twisted into little white tornado shapes. (cont. on next page)

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