** *
In the early hours of the morning, after a restless sleep filled with nightmare scenes, Keel woke up and stepped out of the church. The moon hung huge, red and menacing over the sea. He became aware that he was not alone.
“What does it mean?” Nicole asked. “Is it really a sign of bad things?”
He simply nodded: “There’s a war coming and we’re going to have to get ready for it.”
The End
© 2015 Ray Foster
The Story of the Goat who gets the Gold
By Kalyan Mattaparthi
The elderly gent in the saloon, had not yet taken notice of this little drama. The boar had since moved off, to paths unknown while the horse had been watching and cheering. Offering whinnies and calls for the victorious brown, leather snatcher.
Soon the gunslinger and goat were once again launching themselves past each other. One trying to capture, the other escaping. At one point, the little goat dashed under the porch planks, just out of the man’s reach. Poking her head out now and again, she teased the human with his own leather.
While under the porch, she tripped on a small pouch and bent down to investigate. She picked it up, and while the man was catching his breath. She took the pouch onto the porch. She sat down, and while still holding the strip of leather, tried to rip open the pouch.
She became intent upon it and very curious about its contents.
So hypnotised was she by it, that she didn't see the man coming closer to her with a most unfriendly look on his dust covered face. He slowly snuck up, and when close enough, he grabbed for the pilfered strap seizing it in luscious triumph.
At that same moment, the goat had worked a hole into the pouch. When the man yanked the leather from the jaws of the bothersome animal, three small shiny yellow nuggets fell from the bag plunking neatly onto the wood deck.
Both characters stopped their pursuits to take a moment’s notice of this. The eyes of the man widened, as he recognized the golden stone. The nostrils of the goat flared, at this new questioning thing. The two then looked at each other, and the goat leaped back with the bag of nuggets tightly held in her mouth, when she realized how close the human had come.
In the distance, the horse had found much enjoyment in watching these two combatants but was now tired and had pandered off to his stall. In the saloon, the aged barkeep was entertaining a local doctor. They were discussing marital relations, and bovine acquisitions, giving little, if any, notice to the drama just outside. A bleat from the goat did prompt a moment’s pause in the conversation, querying as to whether there was a sheep herder in town but the two soon continued on their previous topics.
Returning to the event on the porch, our gunslinger was now down on one knee. Tentatively holding out the now drool and dust covered bit of leather trying to entice the goat, hoping to gain the bag of found stones. The goat, still very attached to its new treasure, turned, and let out an ill wind, pointedly refusing the offer.
"Come on. You wanted this, right?" tempted the gunslinger.
"Baa," and a bit of gas, was the refused response.
"Well, I never..." exclaimed insulted human.
He made a grab for the legs of the critter. Successful, he pulled the hide legs till his arms were wrapped around the animal's middle. The wriggling creature managed to twist, and with one good kick, she got herself free, and left a neat hoof print smack in the middle of the gunslinger's forehead.
The goat, still in possession of the gold, made her way further down the saloon porch. She was now within range of the swinging doors. As the dishevelled and insulted gunslinger rushed for the goat. She darted under the doors of the saloon, and hid under a table.
Panting, she was very nervous, shaking under her table. For now she wasn't just hiding from the gunslinger, she was hiding from the barkeep. She knew if she stayed here too long, she might end up in a stew.
The gunslinger, with guns drawn once more, seemingly very determined to get the goat, or the gold, entered into the saloon. He peered into the establishment eagerly for his target.
The two men at the bar, had finally taken notice of the little event. They turned their attention to the gunslinger, and questioned his poised pistols.
The gunslinger realized where it was he found himself. Feeling suddenly tired from the taunting of the furry thief, he remembered that it was a saloon that he wanted, before this predicament began. So taking stock of the two others, he put away his guns, and bellied up to the bar.
The goat steadied herself, seizing her opportunity for freedom, dashed back under the doors. She quietly listened through a window, to make sure she was safe. For indeed she was, she could hear the three men begin a conversation.
Thus confident in her defeat of the gunslinger, she trotted off, holding the pouch of high. For the Goat had got away with the Gold.
The End
© 2015 Kalyan Mattaparthi
Chaos on Cass
By Chris Raven