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The man in black fled across the desert...

...and the gunslinger followed.

by Anonymousreply 27May 10, 2018 1:39 AM

The sun drilled down relentlessly, like a derringer in the throes of a seizure.

by Anonymousreply 1April 24, 2018 3:54 AM

Baby cried the day the circus came to town.

by Anonymousreply 2April 24, 2018 3:59 AM

Until the gunslinger had enough of his wailing.

by Anonymousreply 3April 24, 2018 4:02 AM

Then they both went to Chick-Fil-A

by Anonymousreply 4April 24, 2018 4:34 AM

Patrons spewed at the sight of their buttless chaps.

by Anonymousreply 5April 24, 2018 4:39 AM

"Where are their butts?" they cried in horror and disbelief, the sour taste of vomit permeating the already grease-stenched slaughterhouse of a hostelry.

by Anonymousreply 6April 24, 2018 5:34 AM

And then they ruined it with a crappy movie.

by Anonymousreply 7April 24, 2018 6:02 AM

...called "Papa was a rodeo. Mama was a rock n' roll band."

by Anonymousreply 8April 24, 2018 6:03 AM

"Notice anything specially tangy about your chicken tenders today?" drawled the sweaty, unshaven counterman, as his grin exposed rotting teeth and pyorrhea-inflamed gums.

by Anonymousreply 9April 24, 2018 6:06 AM

Hank, a tall, rangy man of about 30, red-haired and deeply tanned, stepped forward and, fixing his violet-eyed gaze on the counterman, whose sudden fear was causing an ammonia -smelling stain to spread on the crotch of his filthy overalls, said, "Just what is it you're gettin' at, mister?"

by Anonymousreply 10April 24, 2018 7:10 AM

Holden was standing in the doorway, looking like the Jack of Hearts.

by Anonymousreply 11April 24, 2018 7:18 AM

"Uh," the sheet-white counterman gibbered, "I think you better ask Holden, sir, since he's the manager, ain't ya, Holden, ain't ya been promoted up from maitre d', or was i mixin' you up with Zeke, who don't have your taut, firm butt that I'd like to plow seven ways from Sunday, but his cock is almost big as your'n, ain't it?"

by Anonymousreply 12April 24, 2018 7:29 AM

Whew.

by Anonymousreply 13April 24, 2018 7:45 AM

The crickets and the rust-beetles scuttled among the nettles of the sage thicket. "Vámonos, amigos," he whispered, and threw the busted leather flintcraw over the loose weave of the saddlecock. And they rode on in the friscalating dusklight.

by Anonymousreply 14April 24, 2018 7:52 AM

AWw, R11. Loved yours.

She had lots of strange affairs, with men from every walk of life, they took her everywhere, but she'd never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts.

by Anonymousreply 15April 24, 2018 7:54 AM

Golly, Eli, wish I'd written that!

by Anonymousreply 16April 24, 2018 9:20 AM

I should've killed myself when he put it in me.

I should've gived you to God when you were born, but I was weak and backsliding, and now the devil has come home.

by Anonymousreply 17April 24, 2018 9:42 AM

Having ejaculated those bitter words and wiped away a furtive tear and some chicken grease from her lips, Margaret White, her preternaturally youthful face haloed by a cascade of honeyblonde ringlets, glanced longingly at Holden, who, still stunned by the sight of Hank's estimable package, could only cryptically whisper, "If love were all..."

by Anonymousreply 18April 24, 2018 10:01 AM

R16, yes, dear, that's why it was signed with the character's name.

by Anonymousreply 19April 24, 2018 10:26 AM

First comes smiles, then lies. Last is gunfire.

by Anonymousreply 20April 25, 2018 12:52 AM

Well, there's nothing strange about an axe with blood on it in the barn, there's always some killing that needs doing around the farm.

by Anonymousreply 21April 25, 2018 7:39 AM

Friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of regard.

by Anonymousreply 22April 26, 2018 5:17 AM

In some cafes, they serve you only when they've had their daily grief embrace, and even then the custards have a chalky undertaste.

by Anonymousreply 23April 26, 2018 5:27 AM

On his way from the farm into town, Zeke glanced back and shuddered at the glistening trail of mucilage and pin feathers behind him..

by Anonymousreply 24April 26, 2018 7:22 AM

In the upstairs corner room that looked out onto the palms dancing riotously in the twilight storm, wasps hummed tunelessly as they stitched a quilt into the dim shape that lay atop the narrow, chenille-covered bed.

by Anonymousreply 25April 26, 2018 7:39 AM

"Hank? Hank, is that you? " Ella called down the dusk-dark hallway, as if dropping a pebble down a disused well and waiting, waiting for even the faintest of sounds as stone slipped beneath the water's meniscus.

by Anonymousreply 26April 26, 2018 8:50 AM

Overhead, a vulture's wingtips scythed through sky so cruelly blue that a gazing eye would feel abraded by it and the ear could just about discern a shrill gasp off the bruised earth.

by Anonymousreply 27May 10, 2018 1:39 AM
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