Eggnog Shootout Part Two

The still point. The space between the last action and the next action. The infinite amount of time between the realization that you are about to be shot in the back and the actual being shot in the back. That point sucks.

Such were the thoughts of the stranger as he stared down his own arm, down the barrel of his gun, to the disproportional face of the bastard that sold him tainted eggnog. It wasn’t even about the eggnog, he realized out loud. “This barkeep lied to me, but more importantly, this barkeep disrespected me. If you, gentlemen,” referring to the dozen odd heavily armed patrons, “were in my situation, would you not want to kill this man? I know I certainly do.”His soon-to-be dispatchers cocked their guns. This was not good. The stranger’s fancy words would do him no good, here, as these weren’t men accustomed to reason.

A bead of sweat formed on the furrowed brow of the stranger, reflecting the fires that lit the bar. Slowly, it slid down his face. He slowly exhaled, and the droplet fell to the floor. A pool of urine was slowly forming around the left leg of the barkeep, who was frozen in place by the tension of the moment. The immense silence was only disturbed by the bartender's girlish whimpering. A long, near fatal moment transpired until the sound of a man's slow gait entered the bar. Step, step; another man, unaware of the explosive situation in the saloon. Step, step; louder, closer. Step, step; the unmistakable clanging of spurs. Step, step; all attentions firmly fixed on the intruder. Step, step; finally, the man stood outside of the swinging doors of the saloon.

Here’s that still point, again. Here’s the point when time stops and you can move between everything, looking at every angle and through every perspective. At this moment, we have what one might call an interesting situation. You have the stranger, completely innocent, simply wanting to regain his slighted honor. You have all of the local patrons, utterly contemptable, meddling in other people's affairs. But then we also have a variable, an unknown, a factor that will throw all predicted outcomes out. Another man with the dubious task of unleashing the floodgates of hell. So what will happen? Well that’s the thing with these still points; you can see everything except the very next moment.