An Arrow

He stretched his elbow backward a bit further from the bow, and the tension in the bowstring increased noticeably. A red synthetic string cut deep into his fingers, causing a few micro-fractures to appear on the skin. The archer pulled the bowstring a little bit more and let his grip go. All of the power accumulated in the bowstring, immediately launched an extremely lightweight carbon arrow forward, it rushed driven by the pressure passed to it from the bowstring. One of the feathers sliced the tip of the archer’s index finger. The arrow cut through the air with its pointed head. It was barely visible, wobbling and racing towards the bullseye. The archer moved his gaze to his finger; it had been deeply cut by the feather.

A drop of dark red blood started to slowly form at the lower side of his index finger. It quickly grew in size, lengthened, being pulled down by gravity towards the archer’s feet. In a moment, the drop lost its grasp of his finger and started the fall to the ground. The archer moved his head following the drop as it hurled down. The drop hit an old brown leaf with an almost inaudible splash sound and spread across the leaf veins. The archer fixed his gaze on the leaf, exploring how the single drop interacted with the leaf. And, at the exact same moment, he heard a loud and distinct sound of an arrow hitting the target. He instantly moved the gaze back towards the shooting target and opened his eyes and mouth wide in awe. The arrow had just hit the bullseye. The archer lowered his arms, relaxed his posture, and dropped his dark redwood bow in relief. He finally hit the bullseye.