He ran the index finger of his right hand, the one he’d used to pull the trigger, slowly along the rim of his sweat-stained stetson in silent salute and winked with a dry smile. The two locked eyes for a long second, under the silver Buck Moon. That was all it took. A truth passed between them. A bond that reached out to eternity. Then he made the smallest clicking sound from the corner of his mouth, nudged the reins like a gentle southern breeze, his horse slowly, one hoof at a time, turned and began to slope away towards tomorrow.
[York Uni: to write the ending to a novel].
