Direct Hit

I lowered myself from the sill and traversed the floorboards to the dining area. With the perimeter calm, testing projectile dynamics seemed a worthy diversion. I looped a thick blue rubber band between the lower rungs of a wooden chair, drawing it taut. After folding a dense wedge from a scrap of brown craft paper, I notched it firmly against the center of the band. Bracing my left boot against the chair base, I drew the elastic back until tension hummed against my fingers. Six feet across the polished floor, an empty soda can stood as my mark. I released. The paper slug shot forward, striking the aluminum flank with a sharp, resonant clink that sent the can skittering. Direct hit. Surprisingly satisfying.