The dust kicked up as I staggered into the dilapidated ransacked wooden town following the train tracks long disused, weeds pushing up through the now irregularly spaced sleepers. I pushed my way through a collapsed chain link fence into the town, and headed down the main street.
A creaking sign hanging above a partially collapsed building told me I had finally arrived at Bordello Falls. There was no sign of life; the wind kicking up little eddies of dust amid the deserted buildings. I knew of the place, but had expected I would arrive to a town of cancan dancers and automated pianos bashing out jaunty melodies. I had looked forward to the famed Madam Bitters hospitality as I followed the train tracks.
I pushed my way into what had been the tavern, glancing in dismay at the scene of devastation that told a story of a mass murder. In my mind's ear I heard the tinkling of spurs, the raucous laughing and occasional gunfight and death gurgle echoing from the past. Righting an upturned stool I sat at the bar, and imagined the joint in its heyday. Resting my chin on my hand I could see a partial reflection of myself in a shattered piece of mirror. I fancied I could see the vibrant colours of yesteryear reflecting back out at me, a curvaceous Madam Bitters approaching me from behind.
I turned, half hopeful, but there was just the skeletons from a long ago chainsaw massacre scattered around the room. It was a little depressing, and I forced myself back onto the dusty street, the only sound that of the wind coming through the Sheriff's broken window.
"Bloody typical," I said to the wind. "I'm too late again."
Taking one last look around, I returned to the train tracks and pointed my nose back home, leaving the town of Bordello Falls behind me.