-30-

[withloadedguns]

In the afternoon he rode through the burnished woods at the edge of the city where he had gone in the day before and now he and the horse walked side by side down the twilight toward the edge of town where in the long red dusk and in the darkness the random aggregate of the lamps formed slowly a false shore of hospice cradled on the low lands

Comments

[totallyinaband]

Dude. Was that all you?

[withloadedguns]

Seems like, he said.

[totallyinaband]

So you/re... narrating now?

[withloadedguns]

He nodded. He reached and took hold of his hat where it lay on the bar but he did not take it up and he did not move.

[shifts]

Working on your next novel, Rupert?

[withloadedguns]

He regarded the device sidelong as one might a begging whelp.

No, he answered.

[shifts]

You ought to. I'm sure you could make a hefty sum, considering the lack of relevant material one desires from the library.

[withloadedguns]

No, he said again.

[orangetoughguy]

You too?

[withloadedguns]

Seems like, he said again.

[orangetoughguy]

Well, you write real good.

[withloadedguns]

I'm not sure it's mine, he said. It might be the city's.

[char_he_mcgee]

[Just this face because what the fuck was that?]

[withloadedguns]

He said nothing in reply. What more could be said?

[char_he_mcgee]

You feeling alright?

[withloadedguns]

He was as he ever was, though still bound and beholden to the city and its inexplicable whims. So too must this be reckoned among those whims. To be well was one thing and to be content was another.

He chewed on the cigarillo he kept in his teeth and took it out of his mouth to spit dryly the bitten paper end and set it in his mouth again.