“Ya gotta have stage presence,” Jesse crooned as he jumped up on his chair then the table in the all but deserted saloon. Deserted except for Jesse, Frank, and myself. Even the bartender was indisposed; tied up in the storeroom along with the other patrons.
“Ya see, if you give the victims a bit of a show, make ‘em be a part of the robbery, then they don’t feel the need to do nothin’ stupid.” Jesse pulled his pistols out of their holsters and waived them in the air. Frank just shook his head and pulled his hat down over his eyes.
“You don’t agree with your brother?” I queried to Frank.
He pushed back his hat, pulled his own gun from the holster, and slammed it on the table with a loud clatter. “This is the only ‘presence’ I’m concerned with. Long as folks are focused on it, they stay nice and quiet. They don’t need to be entertained. They need to fear for their lives.”
While his finger wasn’t on the trigger, Frank’s gun was clearly pointed in my direction. Frank was getting irritated with Jesse and me. I tapped my pencil on my notebook. “I’m just trying to get a feel for you and your brother, Frank. Folks back East are very interested in the goings on out here. How I report could go a long way in swaying public opinion. Might even help you out, make you celebrities.”
Frank scoffed. He re-holstered his piece then pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. The barest hint of a smile crossed his thin lips. He reached up, grabbed Jesse’s arm, careful not to be in line with the barrel Jesse still had out, and yanked him to the plank floor.
“Bank’s open. Time to go.”
I began to follow the brothers, but Frank stopped me in my tracks. “I don’t think so Mr. Reporter Man. You can watch and write from here. Then when we’re gone, you can let them people out of the back room.”
Frank and Jesse strode across the dusty street and stopped to briefly check on their horses that were hitched in front of the bank. Then they pushed through the doors and entered their intended target. Within just a few seconds two gunshots rang out. Jesse and his theatrics getting the bank patrons’ attention. Then a loud shotgun blast issued from the bank followed by four more gunshots. Moments later Jesse and Frank exited the building. Jesse was holding onto Frank who was slumped over holding his gut. It was a struggle to get Frank seated on his horse, but once he was on, Jesse got on his own, and holding the reins to Frank’s horse they spurred their mounts down the street and out of town.
I exhaled deeply and turned back to the empty table. I grabbed the almost empty bottle of whiskey and proceeded to down the rest of the contents. I did as Frank asked and released the saloon patrons. Many questions were issued as they all rushed to the front of the establishment. I ignored them and sat back down to my pen and paper. I thought for a few moments then began, “It was a dry dusty day in Dogwood when Frank and Jesse rode into town . . .”
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There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.
No really; I need rules!
Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.
THE DOCTOR IS SICK
UNDER THE FINGERNAILS
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