Stories tagged “saloon”
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What You Wished For
She wasn’t holding a gun the last time I saw her. I probably wouldn’t be standing if she was, judging by the fresh body bleeding on the dusty floor of the saloon. The words slip out of my mouth before I realize I’m saying anything. &#...
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Lefty's Last Stand
Lefty had always been the quiet one. He never complained when it came time for him to ride drag. He never said a word when Cookie served beans and fatback for supper 40 days in a row. Come rain, shine, dust, or mud, Lefty just took it all in stride. A ...
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Quentin Flint Mostly Never Misses.
From the silence, a single, hesitant voice rang out. “H-Hey Quentin…how’s the shootin’ been?” It came from a man seated at the end of the bar. This was followed by silence, as everyone turned to Quentin Flint to gauge his ...
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End Like Flint
The Town was a simple place, full of simple people, with a simple way of doing things: Barman Ted poured the drinks. The drinks kept the folk who found themselves here from asking questions. Piano Joe played the music. The music kept them content. And ...
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Ugly Testimony
In a swirl of lust and dust Randon thumped down the saloon stairs. Shirt askew and pants undone, he made his unsteady way towards the bar. Eyes rolled, and knowing hands patted chuckling backs. He rasped, “I need more whiskey, and two more gir...
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Mercy for Two Winters
The bar went quiet in expectation, which made Sid’s scraping attempts to scoot to a far corner all the more obvious and frankly a little sad. The preacher stood his ground, by the bar, next to Randon, uncomfortably between he and the stranger at ...
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Do What You Do Best
Massive shoulders hunching, Randon leaned over his as of yet untouched tenth shot. The preacher leaned back to see around his erstwhile companion’s bulk, eyeing with morbid curiosity the stranger’s approach toward Sid. “Don’t wa...
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Solitary Man
As Tom and his son, Johnny, walked purposefuly down the street, they were struck by the odd site of a solitary man walking into town. Johnny stared wide eyed at the forlorn stranger as his father put a hand on his head and hearded him into their nearby...
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Colors
The saloon was deserted; the bartender dozing in the heat. The doors swung shut on sand filled hinges, startling the bartender from his reverie. As the stranger takes a seat at the corner of the bar, the bartender coughs and waddles over to where the s...
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Simple Request Regarding Natural Production
Jose leads the solemn procession of three out of the saloon, down a dusty street, and into the inferno of the desert. Though the sun dips low, the heat remains, even seems to grow. They plod stoicly forward, Tom a bewildered and semi-willing participan...