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SENTENCE MEME ⟶ OXVENTURE PRESENTS: DEADLANDS / ch7 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

'you've got... whatever you've got going on.'

'i, uh, died. in a duel.'

'essentially, i am no longer living, i am powered by an evil spirit.'

'to all intents and purposes, i am dead.'

'that is a detailed and unsettling explanation.'

'it's no compensation for losing your bean appetite.'

'food has no savour for me and i can't get drunk.'

'i fired bullets into the back of her head and it was all fine after that.'

'the hypocrisy of it is what stings most of all well— the murders...'

'he's only seen it written down.'

'tremendous! i need to freshen up.'

'i find it makes me more pleasant to be around.'

'murder has more of a burning, hole through the chest sensation than a sting, but...'

'i would like to buy an astonishing amount of booze, please.'

'you're going to be so flammable.'

'she mentioned that you might be by. she didn't mention the smell.'

'TNT? can we have TNT?'

'use the time you have with the ones you love.'

'even if it smells bad, it's better than looking at the horses.'

'and i shouted at those children so much, that's how i got the nickname 'old yeller'.'

'can i see some... badge?'

'how am i supposed to make peace if i don't have my peacemaker?!'

'i was just on my way back from the well...'

'not everyone has to drink alcohol.'

'how would you imbibe... liquid... that is not alcohol.'

'i'm sorry, i simply stopped paying attention.'

'how'd you lose your nose, friend?'

'i've never lived anywhere so wonderful!'

'honest men have nothing to fear from the law.'

'i wouldn't go near a horses hooves.'

'i'm going to regret asking this, i feel, but...'

'you can't hang a man for having a drink!'

'should we ask them politely not to?'

'it's not a crime to ask!'

'it may be a crime to ask.'

'if we hang him now, he'll never do it again.'

'let's call them 'health complications'.'

'they can't kill you if you're already dead. it's double jeopardy.'

'first of all, heck. and furthermore, dang. and, uh, uh... ninny!'

'how many colours are in that waistcoat, ma'am?'

'that horse must be at least life sized.'

'i mean, unless you have a three foot neck.'

'i plead insanity.'

'ignorance of the law is no defence!'

'we also interrupted a hanging.'

'yeah, we aided and abetted.'

'you seem very stressed, can i offer you some corn whiskey?'

'you've really dropped the ball, here.'

'oh, no, oh no... mum said it was gonna be like this...'

'how long until you fall foul of the law?'

'if you cut off the head of the snake, it tends to be fatal for the whole thing, being as it is part of the whole thing...'

'i don't know, i've never learned my words!'

'you will not turn my couthouse into a house of cussing!'

'you came in, sir, and said 'butts'.'

'you're putting the spark to the fuse, you're really starting to piss me off...'

'one rule for him, one rule for the rest of us...'

'speaking spanish is now illegal!'

'my understanding is that he was dressed far fancier than me.'

'you look just like someone wanted for graverobbing.'

'what are you, old man?!'

'is this really necessary?'

'here we go again, i suppose.'

'he can't be killed! it's a sign!'

'why is this man not dead?!'

'is sharp rope a thing? well sharpen it!'

'a bad workman always blames his tools.'

'i'll blame you, you tool!'

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ℍ𝕒𝕨𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕖 𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕖 isn’t a man of many words. When he does speak, there's grit in every word, a mirror of the life he's living. Eye contact is rare, like he’s afraid of what you’ll see if you look too close .. or vice versa.

Born in a town named for regret, raised where the land remembers more than the people do. Sleeps in his Jeep most nights, his dog Echo curled up on the passenger seat. Picks up work when the road allows it, disappears when the wind shifts. Trouble finds him easy enough, that's why he usually keeps to himself. It's better this way.

They say he's been shot. Drowned. Burned. Buried. And yet somehow he’s still here. Sometimes, if the night’s real still, you’ll hear him talking to someone who isn’t there. Might just be the dog. Might be .. some other kind of echo.

𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪 𝕚𝕟: neo western !! cursed hottie !! cowboycore !! bonus: a dog !! dust without destination, boots worn down by places he never meant to stay, a voice like gravel, a man shaped by absence, a road-bent myth who sleeps under borrowed skies

written by lore, english & german, 21+ only, mdni, mutuals exclusive activity varies, ic talk & plotting is welcome promo made by @gloomglimmer

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Catherynne M. Valente, from The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making

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Dwight D. Eisenhower Hwy, Davis, California.

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Freeways somewhere in the Central Coast area of California

Summer 2011

Sony Cybershot DSC-W220

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 alone on the familiar walks,

July 16, 1916 Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka First published : 1973

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