We stood wide-legged
shoulder to shoulder
behind the firing line.
Pop pop pop.
The gentleman to our left
hopped up, alarmed,
"My ear! Something hit my ear!"
There was no blood.
Nothing at all.
He looked a question at us,
still ******* his earlobe,
no blood on his fingers.
"Not us. Our brass ejects to the right."
He let it drop,
packed his gear,
and left.