Tuesday Tales: Gunfight

Writing Prompt: A cowboy composes a letter at his favorite saloon before going out to face a gunfighter.

Renfro the cowboy had been in many gunfights before. Most of the time, he won. A few times, he didn’t. How was he still alive, you ask? He often asked himself that very question. Life is funny when you find yourself getting in gunfights nearly every day for three months out of the year. Maybe “funny” isn’t the right word. But certainly interesting.

His soft hands filled the gun to capacity. He held the weapon up to the sunlight to examine his handiwork, then moved a lock of his blonde hair from his eyes, tipping back his cowboy hat back in the process. Renfro adjusted the brim, running his wet fingers over the felted edge.  This could be the one. This could be the one that ended him. He’d better take an extra gun.

After loading up a second chamber, he sat down to write a note to his mother. She would surely miss him if something terrible happened out there. In his messy scrawl, he wrote his final goodbye: “Ma, if I don’t make it, Sassy is yours. Don’t flush her. Love, Renny”

Renny was a man of few words.

He tucked the note under his glass on the long table, then headed for the back door.

His opponent held a firm stance in the yard, legs wide, guns at his side, bare feet planted in the grass. “Git out here, Renny!” he shouted. “I been waiting forever!”

Renfro didn’t wait for the countdown. He didn’t wait for the music to start. He burst past the screen, water guns blazing, and let out a screaming battle cry as he super soaked his hollering, fleeing 9-year old brother with what probably felt like a million gallons of ice water.


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