So this post is a little late but it is still Saturday to me since I haven't been to bed yet since wakeing up Saturday. I attended the Clockwork Cotillion II and I receved this idea to write something up. Not a steampunk story, but a wwestern one, kinda matching the time frame. Any way enjoy!
He drew his pistol from his side, a brand new 1911. Although the year was 1910, it was called a 1911 he couldn’t figure that out. Now wasn’t the time to think about it ether.
A gun shot rung out, the wood he was hiding be hind splintered next to him as the bullet from what he assumed to be a revolver flew past him. His vest already soaked in blood from the shot that had rang out minutes ago piercing his left arm. The pain he was manageable but thank god he was right handed. Now to fire back.
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