“Hey!” I tapped her side with the tip of my boot. “Wake your ass up.” She shook the z’s away coming back to reality. I wrapped my arms around her thick neck, holding tightly to her mane which felt softer than any animal pelt I had ever felt, ‘cept for them African wildcats. No. It was softer than them too. With a tight grip I pulled her to her feet. Now, I remember pain. An excruciating pain. I’m not sure-- Oh! That’s right. I had been shot. Or stabbed? I think it was shot. It was toward the end of the battle. I took a bullet right in the side. Thank the good Lord above that He saw fit to keep that bullet in, ‘cause it seemed to me that without it I’d be bleedin’ about like a stuck boar. Not like it mattered. Because that’s when them white spots came, dancing all around me like a choir of fairies. My legs went cold and someone swept them out from under me. No. Not someone. It was just me. I had fell. I could see the lights up ahead in the distance. We’re in town. I had hoped I could have passed it before succumbing to my generous gift from war. Now I heard it. Hooves galloping on the harsh dirt. It wasn’t Ol’ Slippy, she wasn’t in any mood to trod, much less gallop. No, they were coming. Not to hurt me, or even to kill me. Hell, if they’d’a wanted to do that, all they had to do was let me be. No, this was worse. They were coming to help. Self-righteous bastards.
As I stared up at the sky from my makeshift bed of smoky grey dust, I finally notice the wooden post with a long wooden board nailed to the top welcoming us, with engraved words, to the town: “Welcome to New Jerusalem.” New Jerusalem… what a crock of shit. Just a couple steps back and I would’a been outside of town. Two steps. Two clops. One huff. One wheeze.
I’d heard Fate disliked me, but I didn’t know the bitch hated me. Well, serves me right I suppose. The gallops come to a halt and two-- no three men-- jump down. And all I can think as my eyes begin to close, fading the brown wooden sign to black, is fuck.