The Thug of Tumbleweed

The tumbleweed blows by the front of the saloon door. 
I gaze back at my past and for a moment hesitate to push time to the future.

Behind these doors, I know there exists a world where women are laughing, flirting, where men are eager to entertain.

I burst through, and the Thug, weathered by the sun, looks up from under the wide brim of his black cowboy hat.

“Do you belong here, miss?” he said with a curious lifted brow and one hand on his gun.

“Oh yes,” I said with great certainty and blew off his head.
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