Kathie fired a warning shot over the heads of the thieving mob that had surrounded the gunslinger’s prone body. Her former mentor may have lost the duel but those scrabbling vermin wouldn’t rob his fancy boots; they’d now pass to her.
Kathie thought somberly, “To the victor go the spoils.”
Emma Grave is a speculative fiction writer who lives near the forest of Cannock Chase in the UK with her husband and house rabbit.
Bleeding to death along the sandy road while gun smoke cleared from my head wasn’t a problem. Robbery, booze, and bullets were my life. Figured time would catch up one day.
Main grievance: knowing my own arrogance became my downfall.
Should’ve never laughed at a gun-wielding cowgirl during a standoff.
BAM graduated with a degree in English with honors, helps other writers whenever possible, teaches in Japan, and has awarded publications here and there. Check out bamwrites.com
My hand rested on the top of my Colt Dragoon, fingers wavering over the white vinyl grip.
Being a cheating scoundrel, he’d draw at two. They always did. Which meant I’d have to draw and fire at one.
I tipped my hat in his direction.
“On the count of three…”
Maxwell is a 9th grade student who has problems understanding tablets so sticks to books and his 2002 flip phone.
Doc Brody was late for the appointment, which had clearly been scheduled for high noon. He had personally requested promptness. “Don’t be late,” he’d said. How unprofessional. How inconsiderate. Was his time somehow more valuable than mine?
Really, what kind of self-respecting outlaw shows up late for a gun fight?
J.D. Hager lives in Northern California with his wife and a small collection of animals. When not writing short stories he goes undercover as a middle school science teacher. More words can be found at jdhager.wordpress.com.