“The Stranger”

by Jonathan Stanley

In the quickening dusk

The smothering smell of cooking tobacco drifts

Through the green hedge of the river bank

On the hot still air

The smell of whiskey meshes with Sweet strong tea from a gurgling jug

Boot heels click on the floor

Back across the floor

In a flash of metal

The muzzle of the pistol

The room blooms dark

A fierce crack like bone