South of 18 by Douglas German

South of 18 by Doulgas K. German

The way I met Calhoun, I was sitting in the bar, the only bar we have in town. At the time, I had my heels hooked on a stool talking to Jack, sipping a red beer. Jack glanced over my shoulder toward the door and I felt a draft on my neck as someone walked in. I could hear the jingle of spurs. I remember thinking, Who in the hell wears spurs these days? Jack chinned a “howdy” to whoever...

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