The tall grass parted and silently, I stepped through. Wild-eyed, connected with my surroundings, connected with my trusted weapon, and connected with my quarry. That connection was destined to break. One, and only one, of us were going to survive the night. The hunt had gone on far too long, too many times I had been eluded by my prey. It’s eminent death saddened me slightly. I could scarcely remember the last time I had met such a wily opponent. I closed my eyes, pushing back my sentiment, focusing back on the task at hand. It…must end tonight.

My enemy knew it too. I could hear it in the distance, and I knew it was aware of me, that I had not been daunted.

Then I heard a barely perceptible rustling sound. I froze. Something, maybe my prey, was at my 4 o’clock position. A silent curse escaped my lips. It must have doubled back while I was daydreaming! Why must I be so sentimental! I willed my heartbeat to slow, I willed back control of my breathing. I again, willed myself to refocus on the kill. With calm steadiness, my finger lifted off the handle and settled on the trigger of my weapon. The muscle memory was there, all I had to do was give the command. It was growing closer. I kept waiting…waiting…

Without warning, I spun around, I depressed the trigger and that familiar crack of lightning flashed, the last thing so many of my enemies heard.

What I saw next, will forever haunt me. In the sickening strobe flashes of my weapon powering down, I watched the light leave the eyes of my Lover, even then as death approached, she was reaching out to me mouthing “why?”, as she collapsed to the ground.

I gasped as my weapon dropped and I lifted her body. Her expression locked in affection, shock, perhaps a little disappointment. I held her to my chest and wailed to the sky, cursing my weapon, cursing my unnatural reflexes. Cursing the mission, this burden on my shoulders, on my soul. Then the rain began falling.

But…did I feel her stir? Is it possible that she survived? Her lips parted; she was about to speak!

*Record scratching sound

Annie touched my shoulder, “Did you get that fly yet? Is it a fly? He’s a fatty, I thought he was a June bug at first.”

“You know you shouldn’t…” (My voice was raspy) “pardon me.” (I cleared my throat), “You know (that’s better!) you shouldn’t sneak up on me when I’m on the hunt.”

Annie stared at me, framing her words, she licked her lips and took a deep breath, “Accident or not, I swear, if you ever hit me with that electric flyswatter, I will punch you in the (bleep!).”

“Yes.”

“Just be careful. You know how I feel about you using that thing in the house.”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to bed now, and you should think about doing the same. Give me a kiss.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too! Go get ‘em, Elmer Fudd.”

“Really?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be vewy quiet.” She gave me a patronizing smile, I returned with a sarcastic smile as she went up the stairs.

Then! I heard a buzzing sound, in the far corner, near the window treatments . . .