Rebuked #sixsentencestory

The word from Denise for Six Sentence Stories this week is “safety” and though we all have grave concerns about the safety of our loved ones and ourselves, I am taking a break from all that. But don’t expect sunshine and rainbows. Go to GirlieOntheEdge for inspiration and the link up button to share your own six sentences and to read others’. Extra points if you pick up on the recent prompt words included in this Six.

 

The door shut against the snowstorm, Bill and Harry first removed the clips from their deer rifles, opened the actions before leaning them in the corner, their routine, a common sense courtesy, as their dad would say.

“Aaron,” Bill asked as he went about getting the fire going, “You gonna put your things away, maybe lend a hand?”

But Aaron didn’t say anything, just laid back on one of the bunks in the small one-room deer camp, still with his boots on, his rifle lying beside him, and the brothers just shrugged, didn’t question him further as they spread their coats and wool pants out to dry.

As he scooped canned beans into the cast iron pan Bill shot his brother a glance that chastised him for his pity invite to their awkward neighbor, but Harry was like their dad, always feeling bad for Aaron and his hard luck mother, always reaching out though most often they were rebuked.

Warmed by the fire and filled up on bread and beans, the brothers yawned and stretched in their long johns, sleepily teased Aaron about taking a gun to bed though he’d never chambered his cartridge, crawled into their sleeping bags, and were soon snoring.

Bill and Harry awakened at the same time, hearing the click of the safety even over the buffeting of the snow squall.