Just Like the Last, Just Like the Next

one night of a young man's interesting life

          The cold wind blew fiercely as the young man stepped out of the coach. He had never seen such a deserted town before. Windows were boarded up; doors were locked; the sound of the wind echoed off each house as if being tossed around by children. No light shone save for a lantern the hung above the tavern sign. Drink never interested him yet he found himself walking toward the building. Rain beat down on the young man, soaking through his black trench coat.         

          The old oak door opened without a fuse expect for the slight creaking. The rain and wind seemed to follow him as he stood in the doorway. Such a difference from the sight of the town was presented in the tavern. Practically every table and bar stool was occupied by several different types of men. There were the silent drinkers, clasping their bottles of rum in their sweaty hands; the rambunctious drunks, blabbering anything in between gulps from their beer mugs and tall glasses; the gamblers who fancied a drink, their cards in on hand as their other lifted the shot glasses to their emotionless lips.         

          After letting in a descent amount of water and wind, the young man slammed the door behind him. All eyes turned to him for a moment. Although the trench coat gave off a suspicious feeling, his bright green eyes, neatly tied back blonde hair, and freshly shaved face relaxed the men’s nerves and allowed them to return to their affairs. He madehis way toward the bar and ordered a whiskey. The tubby, aged bar tender obliged him. The whiskey burnt as it traveled down the back of his throat. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as its journey ended and he could no longer feel the liquid flowing through him. He did not order another drink shot, but rather stood quite still for a time, staring diligently at the poker game occurring three tables away.         

          A full hour went by before the young man approached the men at the table. Glad to find someone to replace the bar tender’s hefty and obnoxious cousin, the men welcomed him into the game. He was a descent poker player when the occasion called for it. He waited for three games, feeling the men out. The man on his right was, at all points of appearance, the completely opposite from himself. Dark brown lay messy atop his thin face; dirt brown eyes were hidden by bushy eyebrows; his five o’clock shadow had been left to grow and now approach a time much later than that of its name. The man across the table was much older than any of them. His grey hair matched not only the color but the appearance of years of knowledge and experience that lay within his eyes. The man to his right looked more gentlemen-like than the others. Neatly pressed pants, button-up shirt, and open vest draped over his pale skin and toned muscles. He bore no hair upon his face, making his midnight blue eyes seem to jump out at the others. At last, the perfect hand: four aces. Placing down the cards, he smiled awkwardly as the other men both argued and cheered loudly. Now was the time.         

          The explosion pierced the tavern air and the tavern fell silent. The young man rose from the table, gulping down one of the men’s shot of whiskey calmly. He retreated toward the door with ease and grace, and exited quickly. The wound was barely two inches wide, but the crimson fluid poured from it. The gentleman lay on the ground, motionless, as he drew his last few breathes of air.         

          Outside, the rain pelted down on the young man as he cleaned off his gun and placed it back in the holster on his breast. He climbed back into the coach and motioned the driver to move on. He had never seen a town so deserted before. Just like the last. Just like the next.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

If what I say makes sense to you, fine, and if it doesn't, please ignore. These are just my opinions, and in no way would I try to convince you that only I am right.
In your first paragraph, you start out describing the weather, and then in the last sentence, you add that it's raining. I would mention the rain in the first sentence, and omit the last.

"The old oak door opened without a FUSE" I think you meant to say "fuss"

"Such a difference from the sight of the town was presented in the tavern" I'm sorry to tell you, but this sentence is poorly worded. I'm not even sure of what you're saying.

"their cards in ON hand" You probably mean "one hand"

"After letting in a DESCENT amount of..." You meant "decent," but I think you could use a better word here. Perhaps "significant?"

"Although the trench coat gave off a suspicious feeling..." I know what you're saying here, but the whole sentence could be worded better.

"At all points of appearence..." I think it would be better if you said "in all aspects of appearence..."

"dark brown lay atop his..." Did you forget to say "hair"?

"his five-o'clock shadow had been left to grow..." Again, the wording could be better. ie, "his five o'clock shadow had advanced well beyond that hour"

"his grey hair matched not only...." This sentence could be worded better. Often it is better to just say things plainly. If you mean that his eyes reflected his age and wisdom, just say that.

Ok, if a man has on a shirt and vest, I'm not sure you'd be able to tell if he had "toned muscles."

"he bore no hair upon his..." This seems an odd way of saying it.

Who is the "he" that had four aces? You don't make that clear.

It's a good story, Meaghan, and I hope that isn't all of it. I hope I have given you good advice. Sam