The Inexperienced

Reads: 161  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic


This is a 3 paragraph short story. This is the first time I've posted any of my writings or ideas and I'm looking for constructive criticism on pretty much everything. In this story I want to see
how well I can make a reader imagine a setting. I didn't want to explain my whole idea for the world, I just want to see how well I conveyed this small part of it.

Submitted: December 26, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 26, 2017

A A A

A A A


? Outside the window of the small shack, the sun glistened off the snow, almost blindingly. Vance turned around, blinking his eyes to try to erase the afterimage. Once his vision had returned to normal he began to gather his gear. Rolling up his sleeping mat he paused to look around the shack. The wood was old and grey, the roof sagged in spots so much so he had worried that it would collapse while he was sleeping. The air was dry and smelled of dust. He liked it, it reminded him of the place he had lived in as a child. A feint smile grew on his face from the nostalgia. But this was no place for a young man to make a home, or anyone for that matter. No place was a place for a home, not in this world. And just like that the smile faded, and he got back to packing.

 

After making a fire he scooped some snow into his cooking wear and began to boil it. He grabbed his coffee pot and poured some grounds and water in it then waited. A sound like a branch snapping made Vance spin around, he tried to draw his revolver while spinning but it slipped from his hand and dropped into the snow. He scrambled to pick it up and ready it only to see a deer heading off back into the thick woods. He let out sigh of relief, then punched the ground. Had someone been sneaking up on him he could have been killed. He shook his head and scooted back to the fire to tend to his coffee and dishes.

 

Vance scrubbed his pots, pans, and utensils, packing them into his tanned leather rucksack. He looked around one last time to make sure he got everything before he left. Stepping outside he pulled the hood up on his winter jacket and resumed his journey to Orange Lake City. While walking, his mind kept going back to dropping the gun. He had practiced over and over many different scenarios. He had even taken a man’s life in Wayne’s Crossing two months earlier helping stop the robbery of the general store. It wasn’t nerves, it wasn’t for a lack of practice. It simply came down to experience. He hadn’t been in enough fights, enough shootouts, enough life or death moments to be in complete control of himself.


© Copyright 2018 A. D. Cronk. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

More Action and Adventure Short Stories