Silence (Man with No Name Fiction)

in #fiction6 years ago (edited)

Man with No Name - Cemetery.jpg

He entered the saloon, the same hole he had spent his last two nights in. He squinted at the barkeep, shaking his head at the sight of the man sleeping on his keep.
A maggot in charge of a maggot-house, it seemed fitting.

He strode towards a table where a bunch of tight-mouthed gringos as the townsfolk surely referred to them played a game of cards. So tight-mouthed they did not speak, only using their scowls to negotiate.
He did not speak either when he shot one of them between the eyes.
The barkeep did awaken then, but he moved back the flap of his duster, and the rising men stopped at the sight of his other gun. It did not hurt his first was still in his hand.
Pointing death at them, it was.

**

Though he did not ask for it, the woman for whom he had done the deed paid him the only way she knew. On her back.

**

As he strode out into the light, he straightened his hat, to shield his eyes from the sand in the air.
There was always sand in the air.

He moved towards his destination. A bunch of kids fought in his path. He did not bother to break them apart this time. They flowed around him as he passed them, still fighting.
Their scuffle seemed as constant as the dusty air.

**

He eyed the man who entered his room, laying on his side on the straw matress, a blade in his mouth.
He had nothing to say to the man, so he didn't.
The man watched him, his hair dark, his expression darker.
The man tossed him a pouch, and he caught it. The sound of coins within was the sound of a grave's gravel.
It was time to move on.

**

As he rode his horse away from the town, he looked back and spat on the ground.
The corpses stared upwards.

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This is the second piece of fiction I wrote about the Man with No Name. Check out the first piece, A Tired Old Cliche.

Check out my latest posts:

IOW COLOR LOGO.png
art and flair courtesy of @PegasusPhysics

The image in this post is taken from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

© Guy Shalev 2007.

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The sound of coins within was the sound of a grave's gravel.

You definitely rock at the aesthetic of these. You should try your hand at noir.

Thanks!

And, aren't westerns actually noirs, in a different settings? They share so much, at least the ones with Clint Eastwood. Unforgiven for instance is most definitely a noir film.

And you chose the most poetic line in the piece, how fitting :)

Dang. I got here too late to give you a vote on this one. but I will on another post. Time is running away from me - need to slow it down a bit.
Unlike you, I have to sleep LOL

..... paid him the only way she knew.... lol

Hey, I'm sure if we looked at my weekly average hours of sleep, you'll find very few people you know sleep more than I do :P I sleep 12+ hours a day 5 days a week.

Also, just last Saturday I got to some tabs I've had open for more than 30 days, so it's all good. The comments are what really matters. Unless you compare them to $100 votes, and then I'd still want both, and certainly the comment longer term ;)

can't give you $100 votes (yet) 😉

As he rode his horse away from the town, he looked back and spat on the ground.
The corpses stared upwards

NICE scene!!

Thank you! The enthusiasm you have for these pieces, also seen on @naquoya's library post is very heart-warming :)

That's my Sheriff!
Aside from a good piece of fiction, I really like that hat.

Great hats are very under-appreciated in today's time and age.

Though The Man with No Name isn't a sheriff, just a drifter, dispensing justice.

The end of the writing gave me chills. You have certainly improved with your writing. I could see everything you wrote and every word added to the picture more clarity. Keep writing. By the way, I write. You can check my blog and upvote if you like anything. Would really appreciate your support.

This piece is from 2007, written just after the other one, and both are the first pieces of fiction I've posted on Steemit, but thank you for the kind words.

Besides poetry, you're good at fiction too. I'll stick around in anticipation and hope for something new. :)

Evil kitteh - EVIL!

Though he did not ask for it, the woman for whom he had done the deed paid him the only way she knew. On her back.

Nice Post, perfectly written. I just liked to read it, well done dude :) Please visit my profile at least once, I have recently posted some stuffs, you might find it interesting, keep supporting me, I will be in touch.

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