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.