Post by Buffalofred on Sept 14, 2003 7:00:04 GMT -5
It was the best of times…it was the worst of times as a lone stranger rode over the parched sun cracked earth & into the dilapidated township of Juarez. Half falling, half dismounting his dust caked heaving stead…silt raining off his well-worn long coat. The scorching afternoon sun blocked by the church, he stood in darkness in an otherwise blinding simmer of desert sun, a stranger in a strange land.
The years of a cruel drought had strangled the life out of this once boomtown and left it in its death throws …now only inhabited by a insane old gambler that spent his days propped up over the bar in the saloon giggling & whispering to the ghosts of his memories. He felt his eyes upon him as he crossed through the doorway…the floorboards protesting the unfamiliar weight, shrieking their curses at his scuffed boots.
His glazed eyes rushing to meet the strangers…. thumbing a tattered pack of cards in his etched fingers…”p-p-play mister…fa-fa-five card stud”?.The stranger knew this shadow of the man he once was…a gambler, made famous by a vicious gunfight in the far away town of Tombstone…thought dead by most…legend attributing his demise to the blood cough of consumption. He’d long since changed his identity by changing a letter to his name and now wallowed in obscurity. The strangers voice was weighted and patient “I’m passing through…heading due south. I was looking for some one here…a Mexican…a man who calls himself Boneditto.” The gamblers eyes flashed with rage “B-B-onedittooo….dam him…dam him to helllllll!!!….i curse him & the horse he rode out on”. It was all the stranger needed to hear as he turned his back crossing back out through the doors leaving the madness behind him , knowing full well what drove the once great gunfighter to those depths. The gambler slouching up following him out to the doorway “ there aint nuttin out south….nutting but deeeaaath !!!” but his screams only found the echo of hoovebeats as the stranger rode out…riding out 2 vergence….riding out to Liltown.
The years of a cruel drought had strangled the life out of this once boomtown and left it in its death throws …now only inhabited by a insane old gambler that spent his days propped up over the bar in the saloon giggling & whispering to the ghosts of his memories. He felt his eyes upon him as he crossed through the doorway…the floorboards protesting the unfamiliar weight, shrieking their curses at his scuffed boots.
His glazed eyes rushing to meet the strangers…. thumbing a tattered pack of cards in his etched fingers…”p-p-play mister…fa-fa-five card stud”?.The stranger knew this shadow of the man he once was…a gambler, made famous by a vicious gunfight in the far away town of Tombstone…thought dead by most…legend attributing his demise to the blood cough of consumption. He’d long since changed his identity by changing a letter to his name and now wallowed in obscurity. The strangers voice was weighted and patient “I’m passing through…heading due south. I was looking for some one here…a Mexican…a man who calls himself Boneditto.” The gamblers eyes flashed with rage “B-B-onedittooo….dam him…dam him to helllllll!!!….i curse him & the horse he rode out on”. It was all the stranger needed to hear as he turned his back crossing back out through the doors leaving the madness behind him , knowing full well what drove the once great gunfighter to those depths. The gambler slouching up following him out to the doorway “ there aint nuttin out south….nutting but deeeaaath !!!” but his screams only found the echo of hoovebeats as the stranger rode out…riding out 2 vergence….riding out to Liltown.