I'm having one of those days...

[lyl_devil]

...actually, it's been a few days, really.

I have the desire to write - nay, the need to write, yet nothing interests me. I have a long list of stories I would desperately like to finish, but I can't seem to make myself

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Part 1

[lyl_devil]

My first OW! Wow!

~!~

Ezra let himself into his dark room above the saloon, wobbling slightly as he moved. Too much scotch would do that.

Closing the door, he leaned against the solid wood barrier and let his shoulders slump. The day had been long and trying, and keeping up the facade that was expected of him was difficult. It wasn't the first time a group of ruffians had attempted to rob the bank, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. It also hadn't been the first time he'd killed someone attempting to rob the Four Corners bank, nor would it be the last, either. Such was the life he'd chosen when he'd decided to stay in the dusty town.

No, what had bothered him today, which hadn't been present in any of those previous instances, was the identity of the thief he had taken down. He'd been younger than JD, and just as green and naive as his young compatriot had been when they'd first met. The young - dead - man - boy - had the unfortunate coincidence of bearing an uncanny resemblance to someone he'd known years ago, who had died an even more pointless death than that young bank robber had today.

The experience had jolted him more than he'd been aware, as hours later he'd found himself down in the saloon, alone, putting considerable effort into emptying a bottle of scotch.

“Bad day, Ez?” asked a quiet voice, startling him by its suddenness. Spinning, Ezra cursed himself for letting his guard down. He had apparently started losing his touch if someone was able to hide in his room - with him in it - without him noticing.

Or it may simply be the sheer quantity of alcohol consumed.

“Mr Larabee. To what do I owe this auspicious visit?” he asked as steadily as he could. Taking off his hat, he placed it on the bed post. He he unclipped the links at his wrists and loosened his jacket, hoping the other man would take the hint and leave. However, Chris Larabee was nothing if not stubborn and selectively blind to the most blatant of hints.

“Thought you could use a drink,” the other man said, and for the first time Ezra saw the bottle of bourbon sitting on the dresser next to an empty glass. Chris had a second glass already comfortably settled in his own had, looking for all the world like he belonged here. In Ezra's private sanctuary.

tbc....