Peachy

The girl and I walk up the front steps and look at the moss-covered door and she tells me she's hungry but I tell her to have faith and push on it. It doesn't want to but it creaks open inch by inch and then we're standing in the middle of an old victorian ballroom admiring the desiccated architecture. The weeds coloring the cream tile green and the smell of damp grass lingers about when I hear something, a click, a gun cocking, and I whisper to the girl to hide.

A door opens and a big bald man walks out and stares at me while I stare at the six-shooter he's trying to hide. "Whadaya want?" he yells.

"Just looking for food."

"Well we ain't got none."

"Willin' to trade?"

"I said we ain't got none. Run along cowboy."

I start taking my backpack off when he pulls the gun on me. "Hold on now. Got plenty o' ammo I don't need." I pull my pockets out. "No gun, see? Can't hardly shoot with no gun."

He keeps his sights on me. "What's a cowboy without no gun?" He walks closer to me and grins and I don't see any teeth. "Ain't nothin' but a stain." He keeps grinning and then he grabs my neck and brings me to the ground, slams my head into the tile slab and shoves the gun in my mouth. "Don't try this at home. Awful messy."

Someone pulls a trigger.

The bald man fidgets for a moment before he realizes the red puddle on the ground is his and then he falls into it and the hole in his head keeps dripping.

In his pack is a can of peaches that I give to the girl. I tell her thanks, and she returns it.