It was nicknamed the Sleepy town, just another town in the middle of nowhere. A thin winding dirt track, one shop and in the centre of the town square, an old abandoned church. A couple of houses along the road, it’s not named, the road. It doesn’t need one there’s only one road after all. The sleepy town, the town that no-one leaves where nothing happens. Then it all changed. He came. He came driving down the road in his old, broken down, rusted Beetle, leaving a dust cloud that could be seen from a mile away. He didn’t realize he would never leave I guess. No-one ever leaves. The whole town came out to watch, lifeless faces surrounded the car, like vultures picking over a Serengeti carcass. The driver opened his door and tumbled out. His shirt was full of holes and covered in dust and blood, his gaunt faced looked up to the villagers. His eyes pleading with them, his arm half stretched out to one of them.
“Help me, please help me, I need help.”
The villagers just looked at him, a crowd of blank faces, they turned and drifted away, not one single person helped him to his feet. They left him, bleeding out. His life blood slowly draining into the desert sands, staining it red, the red of the desert sun. Slowly, he crawled, inch by inch up the church steps. There he lay until the life drained out of him, no one moved him, and he just lay there, the stairs coated in his blood. He lay there, as if sleeping. For two weeks he lay there, till one day he vanished. In his place lay a revolver in a holster. In it, a single bullet and on that bullet were inscribed the words “Shoot me you did not, but kill me you did” I will never forget that church, or the body that lay there waiting. Waiting for a saviour. I have heard of people going back, back down the desert road, they tell no tales of a village, no church, no shop and no houses. They talk of a single set of stairs and a pair of old, wooden doors and on those steps, a gun with the words, “I had my Revenge” on the grip. And all around it, the desert sands are stained red for miles around, the only red sand in the whole desert. They don’t know the story of course. Sometimes, I think I dreamt that village, but I know I didn’t dream those steps and that church. After all, I died there and I am waiting. I had my Revenge.