My superpower is finding good parking spaces.
There is a moment when everything lines up. The hunter’s eye sights down the crossbow, along the shaft and its razor tip, across the space between, to the heart of the unknowing prey.
Dreaming of horses and cactus and storms turning the streets to mud…the sound of a gunshot woke the Deputy, who leapt up from his chair, snatching his shotgun, and ran down the street towards the town’s stables.
Mickey’s Tavern is one of those places where your gaze can get lost in the minutiae. Amongst the forest of bottles and glasses live the…