Story: Fight Club: Wild West (twitter style)

There was…randomness on twitter. The first part of this happened. I felt incomplete until the story was finished. So…here you go. One very rough, very quickly written, random story type thing with many Fight Club references.

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 Fight Club: Wild West (twitter style)
by Lee Hulme

There is silence……….a tumbleweed rolls past.

The lone cry of a loon echoes in the distance.

Wind whistles through the slats of a boarded-up window.

A flutter of moths drum a flickering light.

An eagle cries out as it flies overhead.

From inside a nearby building, a voice cries out, “Make it stop!”

A door creaks as a shadow steps out of the saloon with a chink of spurs.

He leers to the rattling tower as its clock predictably inches towards high noon.

The shadow reaches into a pocket, pulls out a small piece of soap, tosses it into the dust.

The shadow whispers in haiku and a silent nod seems to ripple across the empty street.

A bee drones past and the shadow chuckles softly.

A lean shadow emerges from the side of a building, dust puffing up around his feet.

The new shadow enters the sunlight. Tall, dark, wiry, jittery.

The first shadow steps out. Taller, blonde, energy crackling in his every movement.

The blonde one kicks the soap over to the wiry one.

The wiry one crushes it beneath his boot and kicks it aside.

They fix each other with a steely gaze.

A battle of wills.

As the clock strikes noon they both reach for their waists, holsters appearing from nowhere.

The blonde moves langoriously.

The wiry one draws a revolve with a sandalwood grip, almost too large for him to hold.

The wiry one fires first, hitting the blonde one in the chest.

The blonde’s shot goes wide as he flies backwards.

Dust rises and falls as the blonde lands, laughing as he dies.

The wiry one reaches a hand to his chest, feels the dampness of blood where no bullet touched.

He falls to his knees, eyes widening.

Blood falls to the ground, spreading in the dust.

The wiry man coughs up a spray of red and falls forwards.

The pool of blood spreads out from beneath his chest.

A tumbleweed rolls between the two bodies.

The cry of the loon draws closer.

The silence in all the buildings is deafening.



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