I received a distinguished mention under "These lines just cracked me up" in the recent writing contest hosted by Janet Reid, Literary Agent. The goal of the contest was to write a story with 100 words or less including the words: junk, dignity, gunbelt, hungover, punch.
Here is my "winning" story:
The Cowboy
"Excuse me," said the cowboy, "I gotta go powder my junk."
"Front or back?" asked the girl, sitting on the bed next to him.
"I don't need to answer that," he said, "I still have my dignity."
Ha, he thought, as if he still had his dignity like some hungover memory from a simpler time.
The gunbelt hung loosely at his hips as he stood up.
Too loose, she thought.
"I could punch a new hole in that thing for you," she said, "tighten you right up."
"One hole is enough," the cowboy said, "I gotta go."
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I also took a stab at a poem - which I think is way better - but not a story:
It's jealous junk that gets you drunk in a restless reverie.
Breathe slow and deep, and try to keep that desperate dignity.
In a hungover haze of gunbelt grays, you strain and try see,
That hazardous hunch, that packs a punch, and just might set you free.
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