The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed. |
* * * * *
'Your mule has passed on,' Brown said. 'Dinner's ready.'
'How?'
Brown shrugged. 'Roasted and boiled, how else? You picky?'
'No, the mule.'
'It just laid over, that's all. It looked like an old mule.' And with a touch of apology: 'Zoltan et the eyes.'
'Oh.' He might have expected it. 'All right.'
Brown surprised him again when they sat down to the blanket that served as a table by asking a brief blessing. Rain, health, expansion to the spirit.
'Do you believe in an afterlife?' The gunslinger asked him as Brown dropped three ears of hot corn onto his plate.
Brown nodded. 'I think this is it.'
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