The blazing gunfight ended a few moments ago. Cindy-Anne and Darby sit on a small hill, smoke cigarettes, while trying to catch their breath, and silently scour the bodies spread out all over the property in relief. Young Darby purses his lips, puffs a big “O,” and breaks the blaring silence.

Cindy-Anne, you’re going to be the death of me you do know that? You’re lucky I showed up when I did.

Whatever, Darby. I was doing just fine before you came and ruined my fun. I had it under control.

Under control alright. Billy Watson was about five seconds away from blowing that pretty little head of yours clean off those pretty little shoulders. Missed that part, did ya? Well, I’m sure glad he did.

Continue reading “Story Jots # 17 – Shooting from the Hip” →