His fingers had begun to sting but he hardly noticed them.  The burn of the string didn’t register.  His focus was on his form, on the nock, on the target.  His vision seemed to shrink as he steadied his breathing and prepared to release.  His anchor was good.  His positioning was good.  His grip on the bow was steady but loose.

With a fluttering whine and a thunk, the arrow buried into the paper.  Another bullseye, or near enough.

He smiled.  He was learning quickly and having fun.  The first was a surprise, the later not so much.  He had always enjoyed target practice.  He had always assumed he would enjoy working with a bow and arrows too, he had just never had the opportunity before.  Based on the few experiences he had in his younger days, he had assumed that it would take a long time for him to get good.  Whatever the reason, the calmness of his body inherent in no longer being a child or the humility to receive instruction that comes from experience and wisdom, he picked up the right form very quickly and his groupings continued to shrink.

One more skill that could be useful at some point but that he hoped he would never need.  With society crumbling with each passing day, though, he was actively pursuing all the skills he might need.  Given the number of people at the range learning with him, he was pleased at how many other people seemed ready to stand up and ensure their own future.  Then again, he was only guessing that’s why they were there.  Perhaps they had other reasons.

Again, he hoped he never had to find out what those were.

I didn’t choose this career

Having a unique skill-set doesn’t mean I enjoy my profession.  In truth, sometimes a job is just a job.  I’m famous.  I’m known.  I’m miserable.

No one ever has any sympathy for me.


Word Count: 33

This week’s Trifextra asked for 33 words based on The Rolling Stone’s “Sympathy for the Devil.”  It happens to be one of my favorite songs.  How could I resist…

master of the house

I wasn’t going to respond to today’s Daily Prompt because I enjoy too many different aspects of life to want to make the decision on which one skill I would like to master, which one I’d like to attain perfection.

However, while commenting on the Cheeky Diva’s response, an idea did come to me that trumps the rest and pushed me to share with my faithful readers.

Sure, I’d love to become a master in drawing and painting.  I’d relish being a master of writing and editing.  Beat matching, track selection, pitch control?  I am a dj after all and to be the master of those skills would be fantastic.  I love sport too and would be thrilled if I were a master of volleyball or soccer (football).  You see my initial dilemma?  How do I pick from that list?

What trumps all of those ideas?

As many of you know, my wife and I are expecting our first.  Fatherhood…  Being a parent…  That’s it, right? 

As Cheeky Diva explained to me, there is no way to be a perfect parent, there is no way to guarantee that mistakes won’t be made – and making mistakes and learning from them is probably an essential part of being a parent.  She is right, of course, you don’t get to be a Diva without knowing such things. 

But, as the pressure of the unknown, the weight of uncertainty, collapse upon me, the desire to know that I will make all the right decisions is tempting to say the least.  To be a master at parenting, to always know what to say, to always have the answers, to always make the right decisions and choices, to be strong when needed and forgiving when required, to be the disciplinarian when called upon and a champion when accolades are warranted…

If I could be master of any skill in the world, how could I choose anything else?