the odd angry shot

For a few weeks the emails had been trickling in.
Juvenile certainly. Not much of a threat.
Little things.
Mild irritations.
But I don't welcome any email from this source.
It was as though Sneeran was getting his confidence back.
He'd been quiet for about a year.
Now I knew he was holding up a hoop.
Clearly he wanted me to jump through.
The subtext was: "Come on James, lodge a complaint, come on, cite the case, do it."
What was going on?
He must have thought he was ready.
So I held my fire.
And kept my powder dry.