The Streets of Laredo

He stood at the end of the street waiting for the clock to strike noon. He flexed his fingers and prepared to draw his gun. This was not the first fight he had been in, for in fact he had developed a reputation as a fast shot. He squinted against the sun and eyed the aging gunslinger at the other end of the street. The old gunslinger looked like he had lived for a hundred years, he was sure the old man's reflexes were slow and he felt bad that he was going to kill him. As the clock struck noon both gunfighters reached for their guns and as the smoke cleared the aging gunslinger turned and walked back towards his hotel, he would have no solace tonight.