Monday, March 31, 2008

Writing Prompt Attempt #2

What I’m Reading: Silent in the Grave by Deanna Raybourn

What I’m working on: Plot boards and fun stuff for Slayer and getting new ideas via prompts.

New Words Today: 282

Time to finish up yesterday's writing prompt.

Randomly select one of your firsts and one of your lasts. (Perhaps cut them all up and drop them in a hat.) For example, from my list it might be: The first time I broke curfew, I wore my red high heels. Or it might be: The last time I saw the ocean was the night I attended my first séance.

Here's my attempt from a randomly drawn selection:

I saw him for the first time during the last coyote attack.

I'd shoved shells in the shot gun as I sprinted for the corral. The pack’s attacks continued to increase in frequency, and I had yet to get a shot off. Losing calves equated to pissing away profits.

The cows sounded like the frantic mothers they were, desperately protecting their calves. The most recent birth flashed in mind. I’d pulled the hind legs to help the young mother birth her first – an adorable, petite, pitch black baby. I couldn't lose that one.

I ran faster, rounding the corner in time to see one of the older females butting a mangy dog. I fired a round into the air and hoped it would frighten them off the herd long enough to get a clean shot or two. I ached to take down one of the pack.

Losing three calves in a week hurt ranch profits. Of course, refusing to sell the calves I became attached to hurt the profits as well. So far, I was attached to all of them.

The shot worked and the pack scattered, running into all corners of the night.

I raised my gun as I bolted around the fence. The blurred form bounded across the prairie almost out of range, but I took a shot anyway.

In the moonlight, I couldn’t really tell, but I thought I just might have hit it.

Shoving the gun into a make-shift holster on the four-wheeler parked next to the barn, I peeled out in the general direction the animal had taken.

It didn’t take long to find what I hit.

Naked, bleeding men are pretty visible – even in the moonlight.


Lara Dien said...

Great last line!

Terry Odell said...

Looks like a fun exercise. And I agree, it's a great last line. Almost all of my short stories started out as writing prompts.