She slowed gradually, scrubbing off energy like the space shuttle hitting the upper atmosphere. ‘If you want another, help yourself. It’s in the f...idge.’ she said as she made a final swoop through the dining room, which opened to the kitchen. He had finished his first glass in about three minutes. Thirst and nerves were to blame. He calmed a bit midway through the second glass and strolled around the room as she did the last bit of organizing. She gave him a brief tour of the house and invited. -HerrOttoFlick, U.K., December 2016(Author's P.S.: To get a more immersive experience when writing, I like to listen to themed music, which I highly reccomend you do as well- for this story I listened mainly to a compilation of Ennio Morricone's theme music, a live album of the Spaghetti Western Orchestra, and my own playlist of Western cinema scores, all of which can be found online. It really helps me get in the mood, so do give it a go!)(Author's P.P.S: The more astute readers may notice. More

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