Home Defense

“When they open up that door, you’re gonna whop ’em on the knees with your shovel, okay, son?”

Little Harley nodded his freckled nose and gripped his shovel as tight as he could.

Jim leveled his shotgun. Wasn’t every year you got to do the surprising on your own birthday.

This story was based on the prompt “when they come” at TypeTrigger.

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