Each morning, when I look in the mirror, I see the scar–a quarter inch, ragged indent above my eyebrow. Seeing the scar, I remember the impact of my rifle scope “kissing” me because I was on tundra, someplace in Newfoundland, and my shooting sticks moved when the shot fired. I remember warm blood running down my face and my guide walking to a tree, getting a pinch of sap, then rubbing it into the bloody hole on the edge of my eyebrow before putting duct tape over the sap. Each morning, the scar reminds me; I missed the moose.
JD Clapp is based in San Diego, CA. His micro fiction has appeared in Blink Magazine, 50 Give or Take, Paragraph Planet, 101Words, Micro Fiction Mondays Magazine, Scribes MICRO, Vermillion, Flash Fiction Fridays, and a Story in 100 Words.
