Judgment Coming

The loud squeak of the saloon doors swinging open made everyone turn and look, just as they always did. A small tremble filtered through the bar. The last time a stranger had passed through those doors, the town had lost seven good men. A dozen men in faded brown fedoras, wearing dust covered brown boots who called themselves the Bare – nosed Brass Knuckled Boys had rode in on Pintos and challenged the town’s best sharpshooters to a gun fight.

And there was nothing they could do about it.

A collective sigh worked its way around the room as they realized it was another stranger. Instead of a faded black fedora, however, this one wore a shiny, new coppertone one over the coldest blue steel eyes ever to enter the town. He sauntered smoothly to the bar, avoiding the stools, tipped his hat to the awestruck bartender, and ordered a beer. He leered at the parlor girl, who shrank into the shadow of the player piano that suddenly went silent.

And there was nothing they could do about it.

He swallowed his beer in a single gulp and cast an eye about the bar, not singling out any single individual yet making them all feel as if he was at the same time. A few poker players squirmed under his gaze but no one mustered up the courage to speak. They all busied themselves to avoid looking into those cold steel blue eyes. Fear rippled through them like a cold wind on wet flesh.

“Judgment is coming,” he said, his deep voice reverberating from the walls.

The loud squeak of the saloon doors swinging open made everyone turn and look, just as they always did. A small tremble filtered through the bar. The last time a stranger had passed through those doors, death had followed. Instead of a faded black fedora, however, this one wore a shiny, new coppertone one over the coldest blue steel eyes ever to enter the town.

And there was nothing they could do about it.

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Storch-BadgeThis piece is a continuation of a story started here. It meets the Master Class weekly word prompt “coppertone” selected by Kir last week.

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