Short Story: Wild West

I wrote this in five minutes. Don't judge me. Jadefireeyes

 A vulture sailed over the empty and bone-dry valley, a lone spec of life throughout the entire desolate sky.

In the shadows of the granite profiles of the towering mountains, in the desert-ridden waste-lands the dance of life gave way to death. Every creature lived to die, but attempted to live as long and successful life as possible. It was the American Wild West, and that was its nature.

I moved through the tawny sunsets and sunrises dappling the rigid backbone of the endless ranges, the one soul with a clear purpose in sight. I myself had once been lost in this strange, perpetual world, undecided. But now that knowledge was mine.

And that purpose was now to wander. I yearned to feel the excitement of the young cowboys as they herded their loyal cattle across the threshold of the frontier, experience the anticipation of the gold-seekers eager to find their fortunes in beds of rock.

They called me the Wanderer, and my faithful horse Red Streak. And so I, Wanderer and Red Streak rode across the few wildernesses still in existence to find the mystery of the charming West. The occasional cougar would spark an interest of the beauty of wild things, the bounty of curiosity the rest of the world had yet to provide.

We reached a vacant valley at day’s end, the silvery dusk edging the place with shrouded secrets I wished to uncover. I pitched my camp, a coarse blanket with a sack of food, water and my trusty rifle. I would replenish my ammunition at outlandish towns scattered about the harsh territories, barren to one human’s eye, teeming with life to a scavenger. I required nothing but a flowing stream and good hunting to make my simple life. Red Streak would graze the sparse desert vegetation and this would suit her fine.

I slept underneath the stars, and the sound of cattle mooing would ring from the past, passing into my dreams like memories. For once I would rest peacefully, until dawn came again.