Short Story: Tumbleweeds

Tumbleweeds by Eaglewing I'll be back, is what he'd said. And so he was now. The weary and worn cowboy walked down the hill towards that old town he was sure he'd always come back to. Someday, he always thought. And now he had, on foot. Not even a horse for a companion. He was truly alone. Covered in dirt from the miles that had come before, he approached the town thinking of pleasures he might enjoy there. As he got closer however, he noticed something amiss, and as he came to the entrance of the 'burg, he realized what he was looking at. It was deserted, without a single vibrant Soul around. He continued his steps as he walked down the main dust covered street. He was sure it hadn't really been all that long ago when he had sought something better and left the noisy and happening village center with the laughter and voices and headaches of those that resided there. Now he stared at the Heart of the place, all boarded up and closed off. Tumbleweeds rolled down the street as the wind through the boards was the only sound left. He paused and gave it some thought. It was all rather depressing but predictable in hindsight. Like everything else in his life, it was not what he had planned, but it was the way it turned out. Licking his chapped lips, he wanted to head to the saloon in hopes of finding unopened bottles left behind, but something else was beckoning at the back of his mind. May as well face the truth first, then drink it away. He kicked in the door of what used to be the hardware store, and rummaged around till he found what he was looking for. Heading back out, he climbed the hill to the wooden boards at the top. A couple minutes later, he was done. Looking up at the marker that proclaimed the place's name to those who could read the Signs, he read the word aloud along with what he had painted underneath: SPIRIT Population: 0 It fit. The he muttered something unintelligible before starting back down to the desolate town below and the homecoming he'd earned. The End.