My charactrization exercise |
“I been watchin’ you mister.” “What’s that?” “I said, I been watchin’ you—from across the room.” Annabel pointed to a stool on the other side of the saloon where she had been sitting. She knew all of Flat Nosed Nell’s regulars, the greasy buffalo hunters that stunk up the place, and the soldiers that pranced around in their fancy new uniforms pretending to be something they were not. Not long for this earth, that’s what they were. The corner of Annabel’s lip curved upward at her cleverness; sometimes she surprised her own self with her abilities. “What would you want to do a dern fool thing like that for?” The stranger asked off handedly, offering the woman only a slight glance over his shoulder, not wanting to be bothered, satisfied with his own company, his own thoughts. “Cause you looked lonely, same’s as me.” She said, her voice soft and coy, the words sliding off her tongue like lard scooting across a scorched pan. She’d been watching him for quite some time, evaluating the pigskin pouch he had pulled from his waist band, the one stuffed full of lovely gold and silver coins. Ignoring his obvious disinterest, she slid onto the stool adjacent to him scrutinizing him further. He wasn’t a tall man by any means, Annabel judged him to be maybe a head taller at most than her self. What stood out about the stranger was how thick he was. His neck was thick, his legs and arms were thick, even his hands were thick and attached to those were thick stubby little fingers of flesh and bone. She wondered what else was thick about him and the barest of a smile flickered across her face as she continued to examine him from the corner of her eye. He had the look of a powerful man and he reminded Annabelle of a blacksmith she had once known, Eugene Otto. But he had always been covered in soot and smelled of dung and sawdust. The stranger sitting on the stool next to her wore a suit of gentlemanly clothes and smelled of nothing more than whiskey and beer making him appear docile and an easy mark. But something about the strangers’ attitude and behavior reminded her of a dog that had been kicked one to many times, one that was apt to turn around and bite the hand that fed it. |