Enis stopped his camouflage-painted pickup at the edge of the public park duck pond.
“What’re we doing here?” said Leon.
“You notice we didn’t bag one gol’danged duck this mornin’?” grimaced Enis through his shabby, full beard.
“Yep.” Leon spit some chewing tobacco out the window. “Dang ducks gettin’ smarter every year.”
“Well I ain’t goin’ home empty-handed. We gonna git us a duck right here!”
Leon grimaced. “Sign back yonder said these here ducks were protected by…uh…”
“Don’t see no ranger, do you?”
“Didn’t mention a ranger. It was…some funny word…uh…”
“Jus’ some high-falootin’ legalese, Leon.” Enis pointed at the ducks. “Lookit ’em. Ain’t even runnin’ away. Ain’t got the common sense to recognize a duck hunter!” He stepped out of the truck, aimed his shotgun, and fired.
Blue light flashed in front of the duck. The shot bounced back.
“Aaaaaaaah!” screamed Enis. “My leg! Ooooh, danged ricochet!”
“Aha!” muttered Leon. “So THAT’s what ‘Protected by Force Field’ means!”
This is my first entry for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. I recognize a bunch of folks here already. I’m happy to be here. Each week, a photo prompt starts the ball rolling for flash fiction. Look here to see what other people wrote about the photo above: http://new.inlinkz.com/view.php?id=525087