Adam
Adam sat on a short wall, staring off into the sky. Now that the barrier was gone it seemed far more open, even though their new leader restricted movement all over again. Sometimes, if he was in a nostalgic mood, he could look across the fields and kid himself that if he went far enough, walked long enough, he'd find himself on the roads of his home again. That his horse would be where he left it and he'd be able to just jump into the saddle and ride off once more, this strange adventure behind him.But more and more, he knew it wasn't going to happen. No, he was here, and all that he had left of his home was the few artifacts he'd managed to bring with him. Adam pulled a gun from his belt and tilted it this way and that in the sun (which he'd noticed was still bright but had lost some of its heat now they were later into the season), watching the way the scratched metal caught the light.
Before, when he'd known he could buy bullets at his next stop, he might have been tempted to do some target practice, challenge himself to shoot a branch of a far off tree; he was worried that without taking regular shots his skill with the pistol would deteriorate. But there was little he could do and bullets he had to save, so he sighed, slumped, and sat with the pistol held loosely by his side.
Collected my belongings and I left the jail.
Well thanks for the time, I needed to think a spell.
