Last Letter -- 294 words --

Prompt: A cowboy composes a letter at his favorite saloon before going out to face another gunfighter.

“Say bartender, lemme borry a pencil n’ paper. Thankee!” Dawgone wimmen allus gitten us men in trouble. Why cain’t we come ta town n jus git us a drank n do without those wimmen. If there weren’t no wimmen we’d dance with a ghos I’d say fer sure… an a ghos wuddn’ be settin’ ya up ta git rolled when ya walk out th’ saloon door. Damn shame ‘tis a damn shame.

Deer Sue, Me n my men we will no longer will use ur vices enymor. Ah am tard of yew stackin’ the deck with x boy frens to come keel usn’s when we pass thru town. We pay yew fare n sqare lak everone els does an u aint gettin no mor money of’n me ded or live. Take ur sinin sommers els n leeve me n my boys alone.
Cory

“Bartender, I’d ‘preciate it if you git dat to Sue, and here’s a 5 dollar gold piece to help her buree her boyfren’ out ther after he tempts ta plug me in th’ back.”

“Yes, sir Mr. Cory. You be careful now and watch your front across the street too.”

“What?... Oh…Much ‘bliged…”

Cory took out his left hand 45 Colt and readied for battle. He put his hat on his right hand 45 Colt and slipped it out past the saloon door. A gunshot rang out from the boardwalk. Cory stepped out, his left hand Colt bucking in his hand. One gunman fell dead.

Cory fell back and rolled to his right just as wood splintered near his head. His right hand Colt took aim and bucked once downing a female in a beautiful frocked teal dress holding a smoking rifle. Well... S'pose I didn’ need that letter after all.