Pop Gun

He stands stock still and holds the barrel straight.

“Say, don’t shoot!” he orders, looking at me,

Locating his target, unblinkingly.

He allows for distance, speed, trajectory.


“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” I cry.

“I’m grandad, I don’t want to die!”

He laughs and fires straight at me.

“You little rotter, you have hit my head,”


William laughed, yet again,

And turned to look at the telly instead,

little concerned that his grandad was dead

◄ The Escape Committee

Reluctant Reader ►


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Kevin Tan

Mon 5th Jun 2023 06:57

I spent a lot of time looking at the telly whilst being at granddads' 😄

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John Botterill

Fri 2nd Jun 2023 16:37

Well, Uilleam, she might scream and scream and scream until she was SICK. And, yes, our William was aptly named 😂
Thanks for the appreciative comments, Manish. I do like to mess with a reader's emotions. Don't we all?!? 😂

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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Fri 2nd Jun 2023 11:31

That's Just William! 😈
You'd never get Violet Elizabeth Bott behaving like that;
-or would you?

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Manish Singh Rajput

Fri 2nd Jun 2023 11:23

I've thoroughly enjoyed reading this, John B. I tragic beginning resolving to a fun-filled conclusion. Well written and constructed, my friend.😄

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