Ten… lift softly. Nine… adjust your stance. Eight… tilt your head until the sight clears. Seven… find your balance. Six… feel the weight in your hands. Five… relax your shoulders. Four… caress the iron lever. Three… breathe in. Two… out. One…
Shoot.
People are often startled when I mention my love for shooting — unsurprising, given the steep prices here. But back in Peru, even two dollars bought hours at the range.
As a zombie?apocalypse apologist, I figured I should at least know how to handle a firearm. My sister — less into zombies but loving the sport all the same — joined every session. Maybe it’s our ADHDs, grateful for something that quiets the world.
As I play a shooting game at the Richmond Night Market, I find myself longing for my air rifle back home. I miss having my favourite sport within reach. Realizing how out of practice I am, I settle into the calm of knowing this is something I don’t need to excel at — I just miss it.
I encourage everyone to try it — not because zombies might take over one day, but because there’s a serenity that, in my experience, only a focused-leaning sport can offer.
