Full: D. He Mocked Grandma’s Old Shotgun—Then the Target Came Back
PART 1 — THEY MOCKED THE WRONG GRANDMA
The crack of gunfire echoed through the indoor shooting range.
A young man with a military-style buzz cut lowered his modern tactical handgun and checked his magazine.
A cocky smirk spread across his face.
He glanced toward the neighboring lane.
That was when he noticed her.
An elderly woman was stepping up to the firing line.
She looked well into her late seventies.
Her short silver-white hair was neatly parted.
Deep wrinkles covered her weathered face.
Clear safety glasses rested over her pale blue eyes, while heavy ear protection covered both ears.
Her hands looked thin and fragile beneath the harsh range lighting.
Yet those hands were holding something that immediately caught his attention.
A long vintage double-barreled shotgun.
The young man looked from the shotgun to the elderly woman.
Then he chuckled.
His eyes moved over her frail frame.
A mocking smile appeared.
He leaned slightly toward her lane.
"That old thing probably can't even hit the target, ma'am."
The elderly woman didn't answer.
She didn't look at him.
She didn't defend herself.
She didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken.
Instead, she calmly stepped into position.
Her movements were slow.
But there was nothing uncertain about them.
She raised the vintage shotgun.
The wooden stock settled firmly against her shoulder.
Her stance aligned.
Her posture straightened.
Then she brought the barrels toward the distant paper silhouette downrange.
The young marksman's smirk began to fade.
Something about the way she handled the weapon was different.
There was no hesitation.
No awkward adjustment.
No searching for the correct position.
Everything looked practiced.
The elderly woman lowered her chin slightly.
Her pale blue eyes narrowed behind the safety lenses.
They locked onto the target.
Her slender finger rested lightly against the curved metal trigger.
The young man watched from the neighboring booth.
He was still holding his handgun.
But he wasn't smiling anymore.
The woman remained perfectly still.
The range seemed unusually quiet for one suspended second.
Then—
BOOM!
The shotgun erupted.
A violent muzzle flash burst into the smoky air.
The blast shook the shooting lane.
The young man instinctively turned toward her.
The elderly woman didn't move.
She simply lowered the shotgun slightly.
The target disappeared downrange.
Then the retrieval system engaged.
The paper silhouette began traveling back toward the firing line.
The young marksman stared at it.
His expression slowly changed.
He leaned forward.
Waiting.
May you like
The elderly woman stood beside him in complete silence.
And as the target came closer, the young man was about to discover that he had just mocked the wrong woman.
