Dirty Blood: Feared KillerThe saloon was as busy as ever. All of the same old oblivious drunks shouting and laughing. Sugar-Cane Willy was passed out, drooling on the table. But that didn't stop his brother Moe from playing poker in his pool of sticky spit.
I was behind the counter as usual, feeding Fowl-Mouth Jim's addiction. Jim's dependence doesn't bother me, he feeds my family, I wash away his sorrows. Our favors are mutual, but you can swear I never get a thank you out of it.
Anyone around these parts could walk right in and tell you this was just as normal a day as any here at good ol' Al's, but being a bartender, I can smell trouble hours before it starts. Maybe it was that storm cloud rolling in this morning; maybe it was Willy staying awake ten minutes later than he normally did. Whatever it was, something was different.
A few hours after noon, I felt it. It was about three feet from the saloon's doors. Then, all of the noise in the bar was turned in to silence by a single loud crack generat
A Doll's Eyes Have you ever witnessed the passing of a life? There is nothing more real than the moment when you watch that pair of eyes go completely empty of life. Man or animal, the experience is all the same.
A moment so dark lives on such a bright day only too shallow in my memory. I was 16, and a very miserable mid-august day was reaching its end. I'd been on my knees, dragging my toes through my grandfather's field for over 8 hours. The workers and I were smelly, tired, and all more than ready to go home. None of us spoke a word, in English, nor Spanish. The sun would soon meet the mountains, but its glow was still burning strong. Our shadows were silhouettes on a near transparent yellow canvas stretched across the ground.
Exhausted I sat on the same pile of metal stakes I sat on every afternoon waiting for my mother's van to whip around the corner, and take me to a longingly awaited shower. While most of us were going ho