The two suns were setting in the south, and the busy activities of the dusty western town were coming to a close.
To an outsider, this would seem like any other late afternoon evening. But upon closer observation, one would know otherwise.
Grocer, why are your hands trembling when sweeping the dirty planks of the wooden sidewalk.
Young sweet lady, why do you hurriedly walk the street creating such a disturbance of the settled dust.
Horse, why do you seem uneased. Does your saddle feel uncomfortable, or does one of your six legs hurts. Could it be you are anxious to be ridden by your master.
"Joseph, pour me another."
The bartender walks to the end of the bar and pours another "red-eye".
For a bartender, Joseph seems uptight.
"Randy, do you think you should drink so much. You know the morning will be rough."
"Look! I ... Joseph, I know you mean well, but "red-eye" is the only thing which helps me calm my nerves. I am scared. Billy and his three partners will walk down the street tomorrow and I will have to gun them down, or be gunned down ... I am scared," Randy sulkily says as he gulps down the "red-eye".
The jolt from the "red-eye" is no longer felt.
Placing the glass on the bar, Randy slowly drags out to the street. His head hanging low.
Upon reaching the middle of the now dark, moonlit street, Randy looks both up and down the street. He seems so lost.
"Why don't I run. Why don't I run," Randy keeps saying to himself as he walks to the local hotel. He walks up to the second floor and knocks on the door of room 203.
"Who's there," a soft, yet firm, voice rings out.
"It's me, Randy."
The door opens with a rush. A beautiful, voluptuous blond jumps into Randy's arms and kisses him passionately. There is no effect on Randy.
The cute blond falls back to the floor, takes a step back, and slaps the hell out of Randy's face.
"Kid! How dare you come to me the night before you are to die. When I heard your voice, I thought you were ready to leave with me. Now, I know elsewise."
"Deb, I need you. I love you."
"Then, why don't you run, instead of dying," she cries as she walks back into her room. Randy follows.
"I can't run. I want to, but what kind of life can I have if I don't have my manhood.... Not only that, but it is my love of you which forces me to stay."
"Your love of me!"
"Yes, if I run, how will I know your love for me is love, and not pity. Also, if I run, I won't be able to love you anymore for I won't love myself. And one can't truly love, if one does not love oneself first."
Debbie walks up to Randy and hugs him.
"I think I understand. I know tomorrow I will feel sorrow, but let’s live for tonight."
The two suns inch slowly up the horizon. Their rays bring life to the world, but today one life, or more, will die.
The door to the jailhouse opens. Billy and his three partners walk out.
Billy is a tall, slender man. If not for his rough beard and soiled clothes, he would have the appearance of a schoolmaster.
Billy's partners are all mean looking individuals. One would think they could chew nails.
On the street, Billy and his mercenary band check their guns for ammunition. Their guns are filled with death-reaping bullets.
Begins does their blood-ending march.
The clock strikes at the hour. Randy knows it is time.
He gently closes the door so Debbie does not awake.
As he walks down the stairs, each step is a painful and fearful one. Sweat begins to flow down his forehead, and his palms also become wet with fear. He reaches the last step. He stops. He gains his composure. Down he steps.
"Hell, if I am to die, let me die as a man," Randy thinks to himself as he raises his head and briskly starts to walk to the hotel door.
Courage can be seen in Randy's face. It is not the courage of facing four gunmen, but the courage of facing death without fear.
Randy reaches the middle of the street and turns. He begins his march up the street.
The doors and shutters close quickly as the two forces approach their destiny.
When twenty feet apart, the two forces stop. Billy and his gang separate by three feet between two.
They stand facing each other for only a minute, but in that minute a lifetime has come and gone.
Billy slaps for his gun. Randy's eyes detect his movement, and he goes for his gun. The other gunmen go for their guns.
The roar and smoke of the gunfight are simultaneous.
Billy fires first, but his shot is off.
Randy fires next. His aim is not good; yet, he hits one of the gunmen in the leg.
The bullets fly for a minute. In that minute, death wins.
Randy shoots one gunman in the neck. Blood pours and screams are felt, even though not heard, for the vocal cords were scrattered.
Randy is shot in the leg. As he falls to the ground, he shoots the leg-wounded gunman in the heart.
Billy and his lone follower begin to come forward with their guns still firing hot lead.
Randy is again shot. This time it is in the shoulder. Luckily, not his shooting arm's shoulder.
Randy takes careful aim and hits Billy at the bridge of the nose. Only a small hole is created in Billy's face, but the back and side of his head are torn apart. Blood and parts of brain go every where.
With red blood and graymatter brain all over his clothes, the lone gunman loses heart and flees the scene. Randy does not try to hinder his departure.
When the first shots were fired, the sound awoke Debbie. She jumped to the window and looked down upon the street. She controlled her fear and her temptation to run down to the street and help Randy, for she knew she could not help until the gun-fight was over.
When the lone gunman fled, Debbie rushed to the wounded Randy.
As she grabs the blood-soaked Randy and kisses him, the image fades away. The Steloestian has enjoyed his imagination created recreation and fantasy.
To an outsider, this would seem like any other late afternoon evening. But upon closer observation, one would know otherwise.
Grocer, why are your hands trembling when sweeping the dirty planks of the wooden sidewalk.
Young sweet lady, why do you hurriedly walk the street creating such a disturbance of the settled dust.
Horse, why do you seem uneased. Does your saddle feel uncomfortable, or does one of your six legs hurts. Could it be you are anxious to be ridden by your master.
"Joseph, pour me another."
The bartender walks to the end of the bar and pours another "red-eye".
For a bartender, Joseph seems uptight.
"Randy, do you think you should drink so much. You know the morning will be rough."
"Look! I ... Joseph, I know you mean well, but "red-eye" is the only thing which helps me calm my nerves. I am scared. Billy and his three partners will walk down the street tomorrow and I will have to gun them down, or be gunned down ... I am scared," Randy sulkily says as he gulps down the "red-eye".
The jolt from the "red-eye" is no longer felt.
Placing the glass on the bar, Randy slowly drags out to the street. His head hanging low.
Upon reaching the middle of the now dark, moonlit street, Randy looks both up and down the street. He seems so lost.
"Why don't I run. Why don't I run," Randy keeps saying to himself as he walks to the local hotel. He walks up to the second floor and knocks on the door of room 203.
"Who's there," a soft, yet firm, voice rings out.
"It's me, Randy."
The door opens with a rush. A beautiful, voluptuous blond jumps into Randy's arms and kisses him passionately. There is no effect on Randy.
The cute blond falls back to the floor, takes a step back, and slaps the hell out of Randy's face.
"Kid! How dare you come to me the night before you are to die. When I heard your voice, I thought you were ready to leave with me. Now, I know elsewise."
"Deb, I need you. I love you."
"Then, why don't you run, instead of dying," she cries as she walks back into her room. Randy follows.
"I can't run. I want to, but what kind of life can I have if I don't have my manhood.... Not only that, but it is my love of you which forces me to stay."
"Your love of me!"
"Yes, if I run, how will I know your love for me is love, and not pity. Also, if I run, I won't be able to love you anymore for I won't love myself. And one can't truly love, if one does not love oneself first."
Debbie walks up to Randy and hugs him.
"I think I understand. I know tomorrow I will feel sorrow, but let’s live for tonight."
The two suns inch slowly up the horizon. Their rays bring life to the world, but today one life, or more, will die.
The door to the jailhouse opens. Billy and his three partners walk out.
Billy is a tall, slender man. If not for his rough beard and soiled clothes, he would have the appearance of a schoolmaster.
Billy's partners are all mean looking individuals. One would think they could chew nails.
On the street, Billy and his mercenary band check their guns for ammunition. Their guns are filled with death-reaping bullets.
Begins does their blood-ending march.
The clock strikes at the hour. Randy knows it is time.
He gently closes the door so Debbie does not awake.
As he walks down the stairs, each step is a painful and fearful one. Sweat begins to flow down his forehead, and his palms also become wet with fear. He reaches the last step. He stops. He gains his composure. Down he steps.
"Hell, if I am to die, let me die as a man," Randy thinks to himself as he raises his head and briskly starts to walk to the hotel door.
Courage can be seen in Randy's face. It is not the courage of facing four gunmen, but the courage of facing death without fear.
Randy reaches the middle of the street and turns. He begins his march up the street.
The doors and shutters close quickly as the two forces approach their destiny.
When twenty feet apart, the two forces stop. Billy and his gang separate by three feet between two.
They stand facing each other for only a minute, but in that minute a lifetime has come and gone.
Billy slaps for his gun. Randy's eyes detect his movement, and he goes for his gun. The other gunmen go for their guns.
The roar and smoke of the gunfight are simultaneous.
Billy fires first, but his shot is off.
Randy fires next. His aim is not good; yet, he hits one of the gunmen in the leg.
The bullets fly for a minute. In that minute, death wins.
Randy shoots one gunman in the neck. Blood pours and screams are felt, even though not heard, for the vocal cords were scrattered.
Randy is shot in the leg. As he falls to the ground, he shoots the leg-wounded gunman in the heart.
Billy and his lone follower begin to come forward with their guns still firing hot lead.
Randy is again shot. This time it is in the shoulder. Luckily, not his shooting arm's shoulder.
Randy takes careful aim and hits Billy at the bridge of the nose. Only a small hole is created in Billy's face, but the back and side of his head are torn apart. Blood and parts of brain go every where.
With red blood and graymatter brain all over his clothes, the lone gunman loses heart and flees the scene. Randy does not try to hinder his departure.
When the first shots were fired, the sound awoke Debbie. She jumped to the window and looked down upon the street. She controlled her fear and her temptation to run down to the street and help Randy, for she knew she could not help until the gun-fight was over.
When the lone gunman fled, Debbie rushed to the wounded Randy.
As she grabs the blood-soaked Randy and kisses him, the image fades away. The Steloestian has enjoyed his imagination created recreation and fantasy.
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