The collected writings of a Renegade Tourist

Tag rifle

Phnom Penh shooting range, 3:30-ish pm

Though I know it’s only a .22, I hug the rifle tightly to my shoulder and peer down the scope. It’s harder than I remember to see clearly but after a few sweaps left to right I find the target, a white piece of paper against the orange brown wall. I center the crosshair right between the eyes of the printed figure, hold my breath then squeeze the trigger…… Read the rest

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