I’m not really sure if what happened next was our fault or part of Bob’s own distraction; we had been firing acorns at him, though.  It wasn’t that we really meant for him to fall, it was just that we’d grown tired of shooting at the cactus leaves across the street.   A live target seemed like more fun anyway, and, from beneath the wooden steps, even with his binoculars, he couldn’t have seen us. 

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