The Range [Sunday afternoon]

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

Triela had slept terribly again. She kept waking up to imagine sounds, and whenever she closed her eyes there where odd images waiting for her. It was very disconcerting, and it was taking its toll on her, too.

Someone didn't know what it was to dream.

So she was at the range. It always helped her relax. Except that now that she was there, and had her weapon laid out and ready, she found that she was feeling a bit dizzy. She knew you should never handle a gun if you weren't in full control of yourself, but she'd never been anything but, so she wasn't exactly sure what to do.

She was standing there, frowning at the shotgun as if it was somehow responsible for the tiny little termors that were running through her body.

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