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Sat, May 16 2026, 12:23pm PDT [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, [6], 7 ]

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Date Posted: Sun, Sep 12 2004, 2:36pm PDT
Author: Kellina
Subject:
~|~ He's an outlaw loose and runnin, came the whisper from each lip, and he's here to do some business with a big iron on his hip..~|~


Femme swung the door to her little red Camaro open, country music blaring out. Big Iron by Marty Robbins, her favorite old Western song. It stopped abruptly right before Texas Red killed the outlaw as she shut the car off and stepped out. The wind from an obviously approaching storm caught her mane of pale blonde waves and scattered them about her delicately structured face. Dressed most casually in a black halter top and worn-out jeans, she took her time in getting to the porch, even as the raindrops started to fall. Seating herself on the swing, she quickly lit a cigarette, grasping it between delicate digits. Eyes just shades darker than the turbulant sky glanced around the empty porch as she took a drag and curled her long slim legs beneath her. As the storm worsened with lightning snaking from the clouds and thunder rolling, she observed it silently, flicking her ashes swiftly out into the rain. She'd always loved storms.


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