The Nomadic Traveler stood like a weathered Tombstone just inches Outside of the Town Limit. Typically this would be the Point in the Nomad’s Journey where He’d Tidy Up His Appearance before making His presence Known to the Towns Folk. Normally He’d take the Time and Effort to Clean Himself Up as best He could (considering the Conditions) as Traveling through the Desert always left Him covered from Head to Toe in a Thick Coat of Dust, Grim, and Sand like Soil. He was accustomed to taking some Water from His Canteen to Wash His face and Hands as Thoroughly as Possible. Then He would precede to Wet His Bandana to Wipe off the Latest Wear and Tear of the Road From His Boots to seem more Civil than He actually was. The Last Part of the Process He’d remove His Duster and beat it with Palms of His gnarled Hands. This would send overlapping Billowy Clouds of Dirt and Dust into the Air. The Clouds were so Propionate One could see them wafting across the desolate landscape, and One might Misidentify them as Smoke Signals from a Near By Tribe. With the Rising Prevalence of Cannibalism in this Barron Landscape One could never be too Cautious when Passing Through. The Unofficial Motto that the Area had garnered was “Better Safe Than Supper.” because Plenty of Wayward Travelers had Ended up on a Dinner Plate.
This time though He forwent His usual routine because He was about to Enter one of the Most Isolated, and Thus Depraved Towns with a Notorious Reputation that was well Warranted. The Town had been Named Desperation which summed up Life there to a Tee, and Why the Nomad deemed His Clean Up Routine Unnecessary. Desperation was so Bad Off that He could have arrived walking down Main Street Buck Naked and Drenched in Blood, but Not garner a Single Glance from the Locals. The Nomad wasn’t sure what He’d find awaiting Him in such a Hellhole, and soon to Soon to be just another Ghost Town. The Only Thing the Nomad knew was whatever He found it Sure as Hell wouldn’t be Pretty.
Figuring there was No Point in Delaying the Inevitable the Nomad started His Trek into the Infamous Town of Desperation. He paused for a Minute and Stood at the Top of Main Street so still Not even His Coat moved in the Steady Afternoon Breeze. The Reason was Not intended to be Standoffish Nor Intimidating He simply did this to Provide any Uppity Outlaws, Wannabe Badasses, or Perhaps a Corrupt Sheriff (That is if Desperation even had a Sheriff Currently) to Confront the Unknown Interloper. If any such Person was willing to take Issue with the Nomad’s Arrival He would take them to Task with great Ease. Thus Establishing Himself as Someone definitely Not to to fuck with unless You wanted to Tempt Death to come for You. This Point was especially Valid in a Town such as Desperation where No One Was Living They were barely Surviving. The Last of the Residents were just trying to get from one dismal day to the next Trapped in a Hard and Hellish Existence. In the Nomad’s Extensive Travels He had learned through Observation that when Times are Tough the Nefarious Prosper, and the Lawless Thrive as Light can Not Live in Darkness.
Seeing that No One wished to Air a Grievance about His Presence the Nomad continued His walk down Main Street unobstructed. His Eyes Darted around Calculatingly as He took in His New Surroundings recording every Person, Face, Place, And Detail in His Mind for Future Reference. Desperation was the Failed Cliche of a Prosperous Mining Town Fallen on Hard Times. Originally some Hapless Hillbilly Prospector stumbled across some Gold Nuggets Solely by Chance Triggering The Gold Rush Reaction. As soon as word got around that Gold had been Found in the Area People started to arrive in Droves and causing Over Crowding in the Mining Camps. Finally the Population Grew to the Point that a Town was Built to accommodate the various needs of First the Prospectors followed in Time By the Miners. When the Mayor was asked Why He chose the Name Desperation The Mayor replied “I chose so because Everyone who comes here is Desperate for a Better way of Life, and Gold has the ability to lift someone from Poverty to Prosperity in a Single Day living in a Prosperous Mining Town.”
Once a Large Enough Handful of Prospector’s Hit it Rich the Commercial Mining Companies made Their way onto the Scene. The Mining Companies Ended Up Dominating the Gold Mining in the Area Forcing Out Independent Prospectors. As the things go Desperation was Transformed into a Boom Town Money making Machine until that is the Mines dried up. Once the Mines stopped producing Gold the Mining Companies Packed Up and Moved on to Their Next Mining Endeavor. While this was Obviously good for the Mining Companies it was Devastating to the Town and Decimate its Population. By The Nomad’s Calculations there appeared to only be a Small Group of Locals, and a Couple Struggling Businesses left behind to Fend for Themselves. The Farming Supply Company had Boarded Up its Windows and Left Town Long Ago, The Resident Hotel stood Abandoned and in a State of great State of Disrepair. The Clothing Shop Windows were Empty and almost Blacked Out by the Accumulation of Dust and Dead Bugs while The Bank had a Sun Bleached Closed Sign hanging on the Door. The once Busy Blacksmith Shop stood Vacant as a Testament to a Dying Town on its Last Wobbly Leg ,and the Sherif it turned out had Deemed it too Dangerous to Hang around and had Split along with almost Everyone Else. Even the Local Priest had Locked the Door to Desperation’s Small Church to go Seek His Salvation Elsewhere leaving Desperation a Godless Town.
What Remained Behind Clinging on by the Skin of Their Teeth were The Saloon, and The Brothel located above the Saloon. They were also the Only Places that showed Signs of Life. While the Hotel that severed the Wealthy Owners of the Mining Company (as well as Their Business Associates, Personal Friends, and Occasionally Their Family Members) had been Closed there was a Boarding House that remained Open for Business. This was likely Due to the Increasing Economic Troubles in Desperation had forced a Home Owner to Rent Rooms in an Attempt to make Ends Meat. The General Store appeared to be Limping along with a Meager Inventory that barely covered the Basics. The Last Viable Business in Desperation was a Grim Indicator that the Town was Running on Borrowed Time, and the Clock was Running Out was the Undertaker. The Rest of the Desperation appeared to made up of the Decaying Domiciles of Residents Past a Haunting Reminder of what had once been a Thriving Town.
Large Mangy looking Buzzards perched on Hitching Posts like Gruesome Gargoyles Luridly Leering at Him as if He were Their Next Meal. A Small Group of the Beastly Birds had Gathered at the Feet of a Corpse that was Hanging from a Decrepit Gallows. The Deseased had been left there to Mummify in the Relentless Sun and Unbearable Heat of the Desert Summer. The Sickly looking Scavengers were Squabbling with one another as They Pecked Mercilessly at the Corpses’s Withered and Brittle Toes Until They Successfully Snapped one Off like a Twig from a Bush. The Nomad made took special Notice when it came to the Corpse. The Deadman Hanging from the Gallows (based on the approximate Timeline it takes for a Human Cadaver to Mummify) had been the Work of the now Absent Sheriff, But the Nomad Knew You Didn’t Need a Sheriff to Hang Someone.
Piles of Horse Shit lined the Streets though the Horses had all gone with their Owners to Search Out a Better Quality of Life. The Pungent Stench of Stale Urine permeated the Air making the Nomad’s Eyes Water something Furious. A Dwindling Pack of Stray Dogs rummaged in a Trash Pile rooting around for whatever meager Scraps of Sustenance They could Find. The Traveler thought to Himself the Scene with the Dogs was Rather Fitting since the Residents of the Town were Strays as Well.
To Be Continued…….
Thanks For Reading,
By Les Sober