I've robbed, I've killed, I've stolen cattle and been drunker than a preacher on a Monday. But, I left the life a long time ago. I buried my guns. I didn't have any use for them anymore. I walked into town, paid my bounty and walked out a free man. Since then I've been living a good life. I worked as a farm hand, until I could buy the farm. Not a lot of negros can say they own their own farm, but here I am.

The bells rang out long after I heard the screaming coming from town. The wild west was dying. Cowboys doing one last job. Going out with a bang, that's all there is now. Only a matter of time until they're all hunted down and hung by the neck until they are dead. Claude Mayes, they called him The Miracle. It wasn't a Miracle when they surrounded his camp, shot him and every one of his gang members. Just the times coming. I got out before they could come for me.

I know they'll be heading this way after they're done with the town. So here I am, digging a hole through cow shit. A whole through hardened dirt in the barn. A hole right through my past. A box holding all the keepsakes of who I used to be. Guns and whisky. They'll be coming, and when they do they'll kill me. I'll take some of them with me when I go.

Deep down, I wanted to go out like this. The boozing, the killing, the fucking. It took a toll on me. But, I'm an old man now. I don't want to die in my bed. I want one last hoorah, the same as every other outlaw. I suppose once you're an outlaw, you're always an outlaw. For now, I'll wait on my porch and accept my fate. Send a few prayers to the man up above. I've prayed for forgiveness enough. This time, I'm praying for a safe journey.

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