In September of 2014 Chas and I made our way to a 3-gun competition in North Carolina. The sights, sounds and smells left a distinct impression on me. I wrote this soon after our experience.

Gunsmoke and the staccato echo of shots filled the air.

The ping against metal, puffs of dirt and shattering of clay – bullets impacting on different surfaces.

The shooters scurried about, resetting targets and readying their weapons.

Suddenly, the barrage began again – gunshots followed by puffs of smoke.

A man emerged from a building, running at full speed, broke hard to the right, skidding in the dirt.

Ran to the station, snatched up his rifle, took aim.

The air again was filled with the ping of bullets against metal and puffs of smoke.

Reload. The smelled of firing rolling our way. 

Pivot, shoot, shoot, shoot, gun down, TIME, reset.


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