When I lived in Albuquerque someone shot an arrow at me as I was driving home from work late one night, the arrow just missed coming in the driver’s side window and I wanted to find it and add it to my collection of sheath knives, the problem was that I couldn’t see what was in the shadows that the arrow came from, so I couldn’t get out to search for the arrow, I did stop at a pay phone to let the cops know there was a bow and arrow sniper on that street though.
I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; I lose more damn arrows that way.
For some reason that made me think of when I was hit by a golf sniper. I was in the passenger seat with a co-worker at a convention in Florida. He had a rented convertible. As we left the convention, which was at a gold club doing about 35 mph, I saw a brief flash of white and felt a fairly intense pain on my right shoulder. I got hit by a golf ball. One more reason to not play golf. It can kill you.