Postcards from the edge

Postcards from the edge
Tales of (mis)adventure from abroad

Human Targets

Human Targets

morocco stamp

My brother was squatting behind a boulder, holding the rifle. I was behind another with my cousin, hurt from a ricochet hit to the shoulder. We were breathing hard following the dash to find cover after the first projectiles came flying at us. The snipers were on top of the ridge, but we couldn’t see them. Another rock the size of my head came crashing down the hill right past us. My brother stared at me. Screw this. He turned around, aimed above his head and fired numerous shots at our attackers’ estimated position. We waited several minutes…Nothing, just silence.

-Yannick



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