Dust swirled around his feet as he trudged across road. The
sun glared down. The road was empty, except for some horses that were greedily
sucking up water from a trough.
A shot rang out, and then another. One skipped just a few feet
from his boot, and another whizzed harmlessly by his head. He stopped in his
tracks as a slurred voice called out, “I heard you was lookin’ for me.”
Slowly, he turned, pushing his coat back and resting his hand
on his gun, eyeing the stumbling from the bar, gun in one hand, drink in the
other.
I like this. A very non-literal interpretation of the title.
ReplyDeletecan't wait to find out what happens next!
ReplyDeleteYes. I like very much where this is going.
ReplyDelete