How it may have been.

Meeting in valentine

I write with the name Alex Green. But you are free to use a name of your liking. Also whatever hair color you'd like. The Grammar and the sentence structure May not be all that. But i'm a Dutch Blondie so. My apologies in advance.

You lay your hat next to you as you watch the o'driscoll boy's from a distance. You just couldn't understand that your sister was seeing Colm O'driscoll. He was an ugly Irish bloke with no one single intelligent brain cell. But on the other side, your sister wasn't a big bright light either. You we're supposed to bring her, her horse. But here you we're doubting to bring him. You don't know if he will end up right. Probably gonna end up between a gun fight or sold for some cash.

You raised that horse on the farm you grew up. You looked back at the little palomino colored horse, then back at the group in the distance. You made your decision, you stood up, dusted off your knees and turned around, It was her choice to run away with those leprechauns. You walked to your sisters horse and the gear that was stowed on him. Some clothes of your sister and other stuff and thangs.

You put the box on the ledge you just sat on and pushed it off. She might find it... or not. If so it would come over as the message it was supposed to. That she could fuck off, . You were never close to her. She was a spoiled little brat who never helped at the farm. And after your parents died, she was so depressed she couldn't lift a finger. At least that's what she said.

You got on your black Arabian horse and took the reins of the little palomino in your hands and rode off. She was not your concern anymore. You were heading to your home, right next to valentine. It wasn't much, but it was home. You took care of the horses, greeted your old uncle Sam who took care of the place and you. Even tough you wondered who was taking care of who by now.

You cleaned your self up. Picked some hay out of your hair and some mud of your nose. You were meeting your best friend at the Smithfield's saloon in Valentine. Every damn time you make plans on an other day, then when the times comes you dread it. But since you agreed then you had to now.

"Uncle Sam, I'll be going now'' you said

"that's fine girly just be careful, those men out there can be real animals'' Uncle said as he was sitting in his rocking chair at the fireplace

''I'm sure you would know now don't u'' you smiled jokingly at the old man.

''Oh i was a lady man for sure, here girly take this just to be sure'' uncle Sam said as he was handing you a small navy revolver.

You sighted as you put the gun in your holster. Since the west wasn't a place to not carry a gun. You found a way to make a gun holster match any outfit you had. You were wearing a simple dark jeans and a white of shoulder top with a red bandana around ur neck. Hair half up half down. With a matching belt and a matching gun holder you looked put together. At least the outside did.

You were walking towards the saloon. Looking around the little village of valentine coming to life. People of all sizes and colors walked the streets. Almost all evenly drunk.

You stepped inside the saloon. The sound of a fella playing the piano and al the drunk talking overwhelmed you, and you needed a second to get used to it. you looked around for your friend.

Then you spotted her, Violet. She had been your best friend since a young age. She was a little plump with brown long hair putted together in a bun. She was wearing a green dress. She was always in a dress. You admired her for this. Being a real feminine female. Always in a dress, hair always done, always having makeup on. You could learn from her. You always walking in pants. Long blond hair always in the wind. But that felt like you. You may be never a lady, but that was fine.

You waved at her and she waved back. "Alex come!" she made a motion for you to come closer. You greeted her and took a seat next to her. As you were talking you got distracted by the saloon doors opening. Through the doors stepped a young colored man and following a man who was a bit older. You were captured by him for some reason. He peaked your interest. Something that happened a long time ago in a boring village like this.