Snippet #1695148

Number Eight Saloon

Mariana nodded and walked into the saloon. It was dark compared to outside, but her eyes adjusted quickly. She walked up to the bar, sitting a seat away from a wiry looking man.

"How c'n I help ya miss?" Walter said. She looked up, sweat dripping from her brow. She looked at the man sitting next to him and pointed with his chin.

"What he's havin'," she said. She put her elbows up on the counter and leaned forward, bowing her head as she let t cooler air sink in. As much as she loved to say out int the sun all day, it was nice to find a shaded place to drink. She heard the cup slid across the counter and lifted her head, catching it before it passed her. She began to down it, thirsty and hot. Not wanting to savor the taste and let the cold of the drink run away. As she downed it, she could feel surprised eyes from other costumers on the back of her head.

Walter laughed, "Well you must be thirsty," he said as she slammed the empty glass down, "Want another?" She just nodded and slid the empty glass over to him. She breathed and wiped some sweat away.

"So I'm guessin' yer the one that was causin' all that commotion out there?" he asked as he filled her glass again. She nodded. "Who was the unlucky feller?"

She shrugged, "Some freak who thought I was a whore," she answered, in a almost monotonous voice. Walter nodded and threw her second cup towards her which once again she began to down.