Guns n’ Graves – 11
Author: Jim Bronyaur
Frequency: Once a week
John fell asleep. That much he remebered. He felt his eyes bulging. They were dry, worn, and desperate. He tried to distract himself from being tired by counting the eyes looking at him. He got to twenty eight and then everything started to blur. Then… he was gone.
John felt a puff of air on his face. He opened his eyes as his thumb pulled the hammer back on the gun. This time, he didn’t shoot. He looked first.
“You’re lucky,” John said to Mystery.
The horse didn’t look happy.
Mystery was still.