What follows is just a rough 1st draft of a story I’m currently writing.
As of right now, this is just page one of 6.
The hope is, once completed, that we may turn it into an audio drama for our Bandcamp page.
And just so you get the vibe I’m going for, check out this playlist I made of mood music.
Sort of an unofficial soundtrack.
Anywhoo, let us know in the comments below what you think of it.
Enjoy this 1st taste of what is tentatively titled The Franklin Affair!
“We were having a great time, it felt like the whole town was at the saloon that evening.
Billy Johnson was at the piano, playing away, Madam Curtis had her girls mingling amongst the crowd, it was a hell of a party…until Marsha Franklin burst through the swinging doors covered in blood and muck.
Her scream silenced the place in an instant.
She ran up to the bar, damn near launching herself over it.
“Is Sheriff Wilkens in here?” she panted. “My Pa, he lost it! He attacked my Ma and Charles! Please, I need help!”
The bartender poked Toby, the deputy, and jerked his thumb towards the stairs.
Toby ran up to pull the sheriff off one of the Curtis girls, while everybody else gawked at Marsha.
A few of the fellas tried to get her to sit down and settle a bit, but she wanted none of that.
She was bordering on hysterics when Toby and the sheriff came stumbling down into the bar, they pushed their way to the front of the group surrounding Miss Franklin.
She dove into his arms sobbing, wailing about crazy eyes, broken nails, and cracked teeth.
While she was trying to tell her tale, Madam Curtis rounded up some of her more delicate girls and ushered them up to their rooms.
The Franklin Clan was known in town for being a bit dramatic, the blood on her clothes and the fresh wounds on her pale skin had bought her some measure of belief in the room.
The sheriff brought Madam Curtis back down to take care of Marsha while he got Toby and a few others together, myself included, so we could head over to the Franklin homestead.
Since guns aren’t allowed in the Saloon anymore, I retrieved my revolvers from bench out front, strapped them on, and mounted my horse with the rest of the posse.
In a cloud of dust, we set out.”