High Noon Strangers and Local Battles
The shadowy silhouette of a vulture drifts across Main Street under the hot sun. Saloon doors from opposite sides of the town square swing shut behind two strangers as the church bell tolls high noon. Children crook their necks, hoping to see some action, as their parents pull them away. Then, the slow walk begins. Tiny billows of fine dust swirl around the strangers’ boots with every deliberate step. As if on cue, both stop and slowly lift the hammer loops from their pistols. Now it’s just a matter of who blinks first . . .