The recoil bruised my shoulder. The brass shell casings disoriented me as they flew past my face. The smell of sulfur and destruction made me sick. The explosions — loud like a bomb — gave me a temporary case of PTSD. For at least an hour after firing the gun just a few times, I was anxious and irritable.
Gawd. I hope the poor thing had his diapers on for his trip to the range.
111 posted on 06/14/2016 8:55:43 PM PDT by pa_dweller
(Of all the things I've lost I miss my mind the most.)