June 2008 Feature Article:
My eyes locked on the metallic blue of the bow, which hung from a spindle of the coat tree. I navigated the tables of baby clothes, shoes, dishes, puzzles and other items seemingly standard for yard sales. A leather quiver of arrows dangled from a strap next to the bow.
"Ten dollars," a man hastened to say as I took the bow by the grip. I held the bow out, sighting at imaginary game over my left fist. I'd never shot at anything, using a bow or a gun, but somehow I envisioned an elk, towering over the tricycle and skateboards in one corner of the yard. Read more...
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