Showdown

Not sure how my movements had slowed that much. Felt like I was keeping pace with the times, as I saw them. Maybe my world had just been shrinking all along, screwed with my perspective.

Not like I’d holed myself away somewhere. Kids would come to me for tips, or thinking they could take me on. Maybe this new crop’s just been getting worse, or just saw me as the easy bait. Maybe I’ve just been fooling myself, thinking that things were all on track. 

I got what I set out here to get. The train out west was the first time I felt alive, felt in control of myself. I found myself in the harsh heat, the pale pink skies and the godless icy nights. I wanted more, and got it. But there’s always someone who wants it more. Can’t build a house on a peak.

Comparison’s a hell of a drug, when you reach across the table for the bottle only to knock your glass on the floor. Shatters your enjoyment of the now, it does. You either reel back and remember yourself, or you start gulping down a lot more than you bargained for.

They always said that it’d be your life that flashed before you. But all I see is dust, red-stained dirt, and a hand wearing the ring I promised I’d never take off, reaching for the revolver I’d let fall.