Do the right thing
AS I PEERED DOWN at the stuffed pheasants, I could feel him watching me, fingers curled round his rolled up cigarette. “I’d say it’ll all be over in your lifetime, shooting, what with no demand for the carcasses.” I looked up from the taxidermy — all of it Benny’s work — and told him I wasn’t so sure. “There is demand for game but too many birds are released.”
Eyes half closed, he smoked the rest of his fag in one deep draw,
