I Don't Get This Place Sometimes

There’s a trend I’m noticing here on Tumblr, where somebody will post a still from a movie, and then post the name of the movie, and that’s it.  Is that somehow supposed to be content?  Are you saying anything about the movie?  Is posting an image from a cool movie supposed to somehow make you cool like that movie?

This kind of shit baffles the hell out of me.  I don’t get it at all.  You’ve got access to this great communication tool, and you’re posting random-ass movie pics.

Okay, well, I can play this game, too.

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ORGY OF THE DEAD.

There.  Am I one of the cool kids, now?  Am I doing this right?

Fuckity balls.

On "What Was Mine"

I’ve posted 34 pages of this thing online, as it is written, and even though I’ve gotten very little in the way of feedback about it, it served to get me back in the writing mode.  I’m going to try to finish it, now, so I’m afraid that this will be the end of the regular updates.

I may slap up a few paragraphs from time to time, but it’s not going to be fresh off the computer any more.

Thanks for reading.

"What Was Mine" 15

I had my gun.  I had a horse.  There was just one more thing I had to acquire, and it wasn’t going to be easy.  I strolled into Assistant Warden Bledder’s office like I belonged there.  “Well, about ready to leave,” I announced.

He didn’t even look up from his desk, where he was examining some budget papers.  “Are you expecting a grand send-off?”

“Nope.  I figure you’ll be happy to have me out of your hair.  There’s just one thing.”

Bledder gave a resolutely mean-spirited smile as he checked columns and numbers.  “You’ll never get the names of the people who paid to lock you up out of me.”

“No, huh?”  I struck what felt like an intimidating pose by the door.

“Private prison contracts are one of the many unspoken-of shames of the frontier, Gunniver.  They’re illegal.  Frante accepted cash.  Three well-dressed gentleman dropped your doped-up carcass off here, and if Peyd got their names, he didn’t bother telling me.”

“Bullshit,” I growled, but as the word escaped my mouth, it was obvious to Bledder and me both that it didn’t have much conviction.

“I’m planning on doing away with the practice, by the way.  There are plenty of ways that expenses can be trimmed around here.  For instance…the whores.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “The what-again?”

“Those girls we have hanging around the place…they’re ostensibly serving girls, but I think I know what they were really paid for.”  Suddenly, Bledder put his pencil down and looked at me, his mouth twisted with amusement.  “You’re taking one off our hands, I hear…apparently she won your heart with her whore’s ways.  I hope, Gunniver, that you don’t think she…well…loves you.  Do you?”  He was fit to burst with how hilarious he found all of this.

“I’ve fucked good girls, and I’ve fucked whores, Bledder.  Tell the truth, I’m not sure which kind this one is yet.  But you can rest assured of one thing: her loving me is the furthest thing from my mind.  She wants a ride out of this shithole, and I’m giving her one.  Since you’ve got nothing more I need, tell me this, you pompous little bureaucratic stain: what’s the name of the next town, and how do I get there?”

He didn’t flinch at my insulting tone.  In fact, he seemed to bask in it.  “It’s a little trading stop called Thrown Shoe.  Day-and-a-half north-west.  Head toward the two hills that slope together like a woman’s bosom and just keep going straight.”

“Thanks.”

He looked back down to his papers.  “Take care, Gunniver,” he said without sincerity.  “Don’t forget to post that letter.”

I patted my pocket.  “Yeah,” I said, and I put Assistant Warden Bledder to my back.

Out front, Cuss was standing tall, proud and saddled in the baking desert sun.  Byson was out there, talking to Suelanne, and there were some others assembled.  The boy, Osef, came up to me with a canvas bag.  “I filched some rations for you.  They’ll last a couple of days on the trail.”

I took the sack, opened it.  Inside was some gristly jerky (made from what, I didn’t want to imagine), a couple loaves of bread, and even a pear.  The kid was a miracle worker.  “Thanks.  How about water?”

“Two skins, full, already loaded up.”

“Excellent.  Kid, I’d take you with me if I wasn’t already full up.”  I tousled his hair. He smiled at me with his crooked teeth.

The assembled men, the ones I didn’t really know, looked at me as I walked by.  I tried to gauge their expressions.  Most were glad to see me go.  Suelanne had changed out of her plain brown frontier-girl dress, maybe for good.  She was wearing trousers, a baggy linen shirt, and beat-up boots that were ready for the trail.  I regarded her.  “Well, that’s scandalous.”

“Do you not approve?” she asked with a smile.

I leaned in close to her ear.  “You all look the same when you take ‘em off,” I whispered, and kissed her on the cheek.  She giggled and slapped my arm.

I shook Walt’s hand again.  I let Cuss get used to my touch, and I mounted up.  He took me on his back like it was the most natural arrangement in the world.  Suelanne embraced her father.  “I love you, daddy,” she said, and she cried a little bit.  “Thanks for this.”

“You’re a woman, sweetie…I’m proud of you.  Make me prouder.”  Walt was doing his best not to blubber in front of everybody.

Suelanne slid up behind me and locked her hands around my waist.  She beamed at the assembled men.  “So long, you sons of bitches!”

That was as good a farewell as I could have cooked up.  I smiled down at Byson, and we shook our heads at this feisty gal.  I nodded and gently nudged Cuss in the direction of those hills that looked like a lady’s bust, and we rode.

END OF CHAPTER TWO