6, 9, 99.

Eaten well Hanna was walking home, a lovely public path by the river, she sat and listened to nothing.

This very warm and dry weather the river drops, very low.

In heatwave’s the public footpath turns and ventures right onto the riverbed. Sun glaring the now stream trickles, old fence borders can be seen, especially at the oxbow. She skims a few stones to see if they will skip to the other-side, it’s very close. First, hmmm, second, that’s pretty good. Upon the third throw and second skip it stops with a ‘dink’ oh, how deep?

Hanna, she had plimsolls on but skinny jeans yet it was quite secluded. Footwear off, jeans peeled down she ventured into the shallow. It really wasn’t that far. Just under the surface a blunt looking object could be seen. She looked around, either to ask for a hand or to make sure no one could see her thong.

Feeling the object it felt like slimy wood? She give it a good tug, but she slipped into the stream due to the slime on the wood, she just couldn’t get a grip.

An idea, go get those skinny jeans, secure one leg round the object and with the other pull it hard, could this leverage work?

Strangely, still no one is using the public footpath. A leg is tied around the stump, the other is over her right shoulder, this should do it. She pulls hard – nothing, she pulls hard but levers with it – nothing. By now she is becoming obsessed. Sitting in the stream she wedges her feet to just below the wooden stump, left jean leg around the stump, right jean leg round her back she heaves backwards, she heaves backwards with the stream at her ears.

Hanna Lord, her head goes under due to the release of this erm, it’s an old, well what looks like a weapon, good grief. She pushes herself up, someone is watching on the public footpath.

“Hello, you want some help dear”

Demanded rather than asked.

Hanna released the jeans from what appears to be some sort of weapon, While in the shallows she does manage to wriggle back into those skinny jeans, though now she is more than very wet.

“No thanks”

“What you got dear”

She walks to the dry path and up the bank.

“Thank you for your concern but, it looks like a long tube with a wood stump”

“Dear, do you mind if I help”

It really is hot, Hanna’s jeans are shrinking to shape.

The stranger has a closer look at this wood and metal tube, both use the dry grass with the water to rub the strange object.

As it starts to clean a lever seems to be on what must be the underside of the wood, due to the angle against what now seems a barrel.

“Dear, that is a very old musket, it’s a wood shoulder brace, some parts are missing for the cock but, it is very old, they were very unreliable, a chance to gash your face could be as high as the target trying to be shot”

“oh”

Hanna is wondering, who is this person? Thankfully it’s still only early evening.

“Let me show you dear”

“What”

“Dear, if the enemy reached you due to the muskets shots being so off target what happens”

“No”

“Huh, dears hold fine – fire, huh, reload, rear hold fine – fire huh, reload, front fire huh, hold still dears, hold firm, the target, hold…”

Jumping to waking, Hanna could hear the local clay pigeon club start the evening event, they’re only over the river. Thing is, she couldn’t fully work out why her skinny jeans seemed to have got ever more damp.

She is the dearest.

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