Bright lights flood the boardwalk, exceeded only by the boisterous sounds of sin emanating from the saloon. The slamming of glasses upon the bar, the falling of poker chips into an awaiting pile, the laughter of painted women plying drinks into willing souls, all competing for dying gasps of life.
In a darkened corner sit’s a loner, one consumed by all that is within him. Having no desire to partake in the vice surrounding himself, paying heed only to the broken melodies from an out of tune piano. In front of him, sits an over turned glass, and a full bottle of rye. If only the indwelling pain could be so easily vanished in an amber sea.
Grabbing his black Stetson, he slowly makes his way to the door. Stepping out onto the wooden walk way, he hesitates only long enough to light a hand rolled cigarette. Inhaling deeply, the burning tearing to his core on this brisk autumn evening, he coughs horridly.
Knowing that it is only a matter of time, before this one continued vice eases him of a life full of brokenness. In only the presence of death, will he gain freedom from this addictive habit.
Glancing upward at a full moon, caught in a starlit web he remembers how the moon spoke to them both on many an evening. How he wishes, but just as quickly banishes that thought knowing the futility of it. Having finished the shortened tobacco, he casually tosses it aside with one hand. Just as smoothly grabs at his pistol with the other, twirling it a half revolution he lashes out.
The blow of the pistol whip comes to glance off the shoulder of a passing giant of a man. Although no small fry himself, he pales in comparison to this one who dared to pass unknowingly close enough. Close enough to play the foil in this final futile struggle of a hardened life.
Enraged the giant comes to life, turning around to find the quiet stranger slowly bringing his pistol to level. With a natural born ease, he discards his anger only to replace it with a cold instinct to survive. Both fire at almost the same moment, the sound doubling with every echo as it plays off buildings along the narrow muddy street.
As the quiet stranger quickly falls, a bouquet of blood blossoms upon his chest. Smiling he knows that his on shot missed, but not by chance. With the embrace of the reddened mud, his hat slips off. A brief fluttering of paper is seen in the inside brim. As the throng begins to gather round, the giant gathers the hat unto himself. Removing the paper, he quietly reads to himself.
“Be not troubled in your own soul, for though your hand held the pistol it was hers who pulled the trigger.”
Author notes
"Pull the trigger enough, you'll rob a man of his soul."
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Very nicely written story of the loner that has reached his sad end, being irreversibly rejected by the one that meant the most to him. He structures his own demise with presice planning and execution of that plan. The last line was an unexpected shocker that gave this poem a real punch.
Overall it was a pleasure to read and ponder the lenghts a spurned lover will go to end pain that eats like a cancer.Great period piece (or was this just every day happenings in Texas?). Write on my friend!
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No
my friend not an everyday happening in Texas. Just trying to write a period piece, worthy of consideration.
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Interesting concept here Bro, one of many tangients.
The story reveals a subject of many a mans existance, and many an outcome of similar circumstances. You have written a fine piece here, a master crafted write to say the least.
The ending quote is something else tho..
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Hey Bro,
The ending quote, I used to speak to a human frality. That frailty being how often times we seek solace in our actions, yet lay them at others feet. When in actuality, my actions are our own, nd as such we are accountable for them. I am honored you have this piece to be well crafted.
Niaish
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Very Interesting
This is asmost remarkable piece Makes me think of Doc Holliday from many werter movies. He was always my favorite character. It was good he resolved the man who actually killed him of responsibility.
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Mam,
I too find Doc Holiday to be a most interesting character to say the least. Having reseached him, I find the interest justified. I appreciate your comments. Thank you for stopping by.
PureCountry
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