No Reason

The rec was where we dug sandy tunnel dens in danger of collapse.There I fired my catapult on a group of three children some distance away as I hid behind a willow tree not far from the passage leading in. The straightness and speed of the stone surprised me. It struck a young girl on her spine, someone unknown, and as she swung her left hand back to clutch at her pain I ducked to hide and slunk aside in the shadow of the trees. They did not see me as they turned. I think of it now with shame. There was no reason. Much older, as I walked alone across a parking lot in upstate New York someone took a shot at me from a window of nearby apartments. The bullet pinged the lamp post near my head and I turned to scan the windows from where it must have come, but saw no one. There was no reason.