Young Writers Society

Dreamin’

Bounty hunter since 12 years old

I can’t remember the last time I felt my right hip with out a pistol

The cold hard but of my pistol against the warm side of my palm

Gun slingin’ is all I ever knew

It wont surprise me in the least if I buck out in smoke

In fact, that’s the only way I see myself goin’

My left eye is blind

It only sees the past

Memories

Incidents

Dreams

Nightmares

All twisted up into one single puddle

Between the barrel of a glass eye

I never knew what love was

Till that one god forsaken afternoon

I’d just finished finding my way back far from the saloon

I lay watchin’ the sunset ‘side my horse

The sun cast a silhouette against a figure before me

Long flowing hair blocked my sight

The calico before me was no regular gal

She wore a deep maroon sundress that blew with the wind

Justin’s fit her feet well

In the pit of her hand she held a sharp’s rifle

It pointed strait at me

And it was that single moment in time

Time stood still

A smirk rooted to her face, she said “mighty fine game”.

And that was the beginning of my dream