i lift the rifle to my shoulder, the heft of it reassuring, the smell of the oil soothing
i pull back the bolt, cycling a round into the chamber, 173 grain match ammuniton, i peer into the scope, the target, 100 yards away seemed so close i could almost touch it
the procedure runs through my head, the only thing i can think about rifle in hollow of shoulder body set to take the recoil, safety disengaged my finger moves to the trigger, slowly, applying pressure easily, pulling back ever so gently,
i breath out slowly, slow is smooth, smooth is fast, i time the shot, fire between heart beats, all i see is the target
the rifle roars, but i can barely hear it my thoughts only on the target
the rifle kicks back, settling into the hollow of my shoulder, my body barely moves the shot hits, three inches off center, damn, i pulled to the left,my body moves automatically, by memory, already in the motion of cycling the bolt
this is my rifle my only true companion, the only one thats always there for me, my life