... high noon...

… high noon…

… I strap on my black leather belt - adjust it to fit exactly the way I want it…

… the holster to the left facing backwards…

…resting against my belly- in front and at the same level as my hip bone…

out of habit my right hand moves snaps to my left…

… reaching, feeling for the comfortable reassuring presence of the Colt…

it comes to hand, exactly as it should…

… not so low, that its four pounds weight delays the draw by to lift it…

… I repeat the draw - quicker now… lightening fast… like a snake striking…

… thumbing back the hammer as I do so…

It feels so right - I feel so right…

… if only I could ignore the copper tang of fear in my guts…

as I stumble outside into the fierce sunlight…

… to meet my destiny…

Peter Hunter full-length works are on Kindle

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