Survivors
As the lights of the city diminished, the lights overhead brightened and multiplied. The saddle leather beneath him creaked as he gazed into the heavens. His horse lowered his head to graze...
As the lights of the city diminished, the lights overhead brightened and multiplied. The saddle leather beneath him creaked as he gazed into the heavens. His horse lowered his head to graze, stepped forward as it cropped grass.
Billy Simmons pulled back on the reins, gigged ribs with his boot heels. The horse began to trot then shifted into an easy galloping gait. He let it. Hopefully, it would find no gopher holes.
He’d left death and destruction in his wake. As usual, trouble found him then he moved on. Months passed between a good night’s sleep. He was okay with that. The timing movements of his life ticked on without repair.
The routine throbbing within him had awakened one morning. He’d left behind a father and mother in their bed, appearing in peaceful sleep, except for the flowery blossoms that rose from beneath their sheets. They were better off now.
He’d holstered his guns and rode away.