The Gunslinger has been walking for 7 days through the desert. It seems that the desert is becoming more and more barren the further he walks. The desert held no life there was just soft red sand everywhere, with a blistering sun beating down on anything which emerges out of the shadows. As he walked he took out a single bullet from his belt and started to fidget to keep his mind blank. It flew from one finger to the next, in between each knuckle effortlessly gliding across his skin. With long strides, he tracked through the sand, having the familiar rhythm of his gun holsters hitting against the side of his thighs.
He could see in the far distance a huge sand dune bigger than any other he has previously climbed. The sun was beginning to set
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But now it seems to be that visitors were very rare. There was a good reason for everyone to stop their actions, as he was a sight to behold. The gunslinger was tall, wearing a long black trench coat, his chest was pulsing out of the old torn shirt. His beard was strong and cut well improving on his already masculine jawline. But the two things that brought the most attention to him was his heavy metallic guns holstered to his hips. Exhaustively he walked over to the bar took a seat and as he did the chatter continued. He placed his hat on the table and waited, the bartender came from around the back. As she approached him the gunslinger demanded “your finest wine and a pot of food” in shock she replied, “and what makes you think I'm going to serve a beggar”. Out of his bag, he dropped 4 coins of silver. Letting each fall to hit the bench signifying he had many to spare she collected them and returned into the kitchen, and later came out with his order. He began to eat and drink, a conversation started between the bartender and himself but only as everyone else left for the night she asked, “what’s with the guns, are you a hitman?” He smiled and she added, “if so I got someone to get rid of, that dam witch in the church is turning everyone's brains into mush.” “I don't work for anyone, and I am no hitman, just a lone wanderer, but for you I will check out …show more content…
These devils live inside people they look like you and me, but they are easy to see they continue to practice old ways, and she continued to chant and imply the thought. The gunslinger thought that there was nothing to worry about and she could cause no harm, she was just saying words. So, he left the church and stayed one more night planning to leave in the morning to carry on his
By noon they had begun to climb toward the gap in the mountains. Riding up through the lavender or soapweed, under the Animas peaks. The shadow of an eagle that had set forth from the line of riders below and they looked up to mark it where it rode in that brittle blue and faultless void. In the evening they came out to upon a mesa that overlooked all the country to the north... The crumpled butcher paper mountains lay in sharp shadowfold under the long blue dusk and in the middle distance the glazed bed of a dry lake lay shimmering like the mare imbrium. (168)
I had been in the village for all but a week when I realized there was something... wrong. There seemed to be an underlying atmosphere of fear and animosity. Of course, with my wide-eyed, innocent thinking at the time, I assumed the presence of Satan had damaged the townspeople 's trust of one another. Again, I blissfully accepted this, and I was wrong.
Somewhere out in the Old West wind kicks up dust off a lone road through a lawless town, a road once dominated by men with gun belts attached at the hip, boots upon their feet and spurs that clanged as they traversed the dusty road. The gunslinger hero, a man with a violent past and present, a man who eventually would succumb to the progress of the frontier, he is the embodiment of the values of freedom and the land the he defends with his gun. Inseparable is the iconography of the West in the imagination of Americans, the figure of the gunslinger is part of this iconography, his law was through the gun and his boots with spurs signaled his arrival, commanding order by way of violent intentions. The Western also had other iconic figures that populated the Old West, the lawman, in contrast to the gunslinger, had a different weapon to yield, the law. In the frontier, his belief in law and order as well as knowledge and education, brought civility to the untamed frontier. The Western was and still is the “essential American film genre, the cornerstone of American identity.” (Holtz p. 111) There is a strong link between America’s past and the Western film genre, documenting and reflecting the nations changes through conflict in the construction of an expanding nation. Taking the genres classical conventions, such as the gunslinger, and interpret them into the ideology of America. Thus The Western’s classical gunslinger, the personification of America’s violent past to protect the freedoms of a nation, the Modernist takes the familiar convention and buries him to signify that societies attitude has change towards the use of diplomacy, by way of outmoding the gunslinger in favor of the lawman, taming the frontier with civility.
The dilemma between good and evil began long before our time, and it’s been chronicled since man wrote. Stephen King, one of the most controversial writers of our time, brings his characters to life by giving them peculiar attributes, individual and bold attitudes, and places them in unusual predicaments. The Gunslinger series by Stephen King is a sequence of books that show the internal struggle between good and evil. His characters are presented with obstacles, and readers observe how each one responds to the challenges presented to them, waiting to see how far they will go to achieve what they believe is the greater good. King realistically conveys to his readers that although his characters put forth their best efforts to do what they feel is upright, their actions are not always in their best interests.
“I looked at Ras on his horse and at their handful of guns …” With only thirteen words, a minefield of images from the narrator’s voice tells of an underlying story. “I.” This pronoun speaks volumes of who’s words and who’s voice will lead us through the, apparently, important story that is to follow. The scene that is painted for the readers in the very beginning is that of post-medieval violence. “Guns” do not invoke carefree, cheerful images, but those of terror and death; adrenaline. The “I” of this tale wants to share a terrifyingly significant story. To see the full meaning, we must delve much deeper and discover who Ras is, why our narrator is looking up at them, and what events have taken place thus far for this moment to occur. Why is this story important to the narrator?
The Wild West is romanticized by many, despite the horrors people encountered and the lack of law it was home to people who wanted to settle away from city life. The West was home to many gang and bandits such as Butch Cassidy, Jesse James, and specifically, Billy the Kid. Billy the Kid is famous for being one of the most notorious outlaws of New Mexico and fought in the infamous gang war The Lincoln County War. In Robert M. Utley’s book, Billy the Kid: A Short and Violent Life, Utley describes the young gunslinger’s life upbringings, how his actions affected people and his untimely death, and an overall response to Utley’s work.
...breathing and feel the warm air dance across her bloody face. After a long time the eight men and she started walking towards a hill, slowly and quietly, in a single line formation. Behind the hill was the forty-eight state of the United States, Arizona. It was still dark as they climbed up, so they knew they had to be careful with each step they took. As they reached the peak they climbed down under trees and bushes. Taking the first steps on the Desert of Arizona.
Imagine you've been hired to be a hunting guide in the desert when you?re the guy that is being hunted. Your customer accidentally shot an old prospector whom nobody knows and doesn?t want to go to jail for it. So he makes you take off all your clothes and tells you to try to walk to town, which happens to be 60 miles from where you are. With no food and no water you are forced to walk or do what you need to do, to try to stay alive. So you wander in the desert mountains trying to find water while being watched through a ten-power scope of a .358 caliber Winchester Magnum.
Beggining: Once upon there was a girl named Hanna, she was walking around in the city, then she founded a collar, she didn't see anyone near so she took it. At her house she saw it in detail. It was a strange collar but was beautifull, so she put it on. While she was sleeping, she was feeling like something was shining, she didn't knew it was the collar so she continued sleeping. The next day, she went to walk outside and the collar started to shine, she didn't knew why it was happening but she continued walking around. Then she saw something strange on a tree, she get near to look what was happening. She saw that a strange light was shining through the tree, then everything was dark, then she woke up in another world, different from her. They were no people, they were fairytale characters.
While the western frontier was still new and untamed, the western hero often took on the role of a vigilante. The vigilante’s role in the frontier was that of extralegal verve which was used to restrain criminal threats to the civil peace and opulence of a local community. Vigilantism was typical to the settler-state societies of the western frontier where the structures and powers of government were at first very feeble and weak. The typical cowboy hero had a willingness to use this extralegal verve. The Virginian demonstrated this throughout with his interactions with Trampas, most notably in the interactions leading up to the shoot out and during the shoot-out itself. “Others struggled with Trampas, and his bullet smashed the ceiling before they could drag the pistol from him… Yet the Virginian stood quiet by the...
As the Gunslinger travels he stumbles upon Tull, a village, but in order to continue past, he is faced with daunting challenges. Although the gunslinger is greeted in peace, he soon learns that the man in black has passed by and is eager to acquire more information. Roland takes a trip to the nearby church where Sylvia Pittston is preaching. Roland forcefully enters her home, and threatens information from her about what lies beyond the desert. Soon after, the residents of Tull become aware of his actions and label him as the “Interloper” and seek to kill him. After the long combat, the gunslinger assesses the damage realizing he killed everyone in Tull, but not without injury. “The guns...
Grady was able to step away a couple of feet away from the mother bear, so he can get a head start of running away from the bear... I stepped away from the bear, so if the bear starts chasing me, I can get a head start running to say my last prayers. I started to run as fast as I could because you don't want to just stand there and be gobbled up for dinner. I ran so fast that I couldn't keep a trail if I lost my family, then I tripped over a piece of twig that made me stop and hear the awful sounds of the bear. After I tripped over the twig, I decided to go back to the campgrounds.
Comparable to his other works of literature, Hemingway’s “The Killers” has a slight double meaning to it, one that requires a closer read and an “under the surface” analysis. The tale takes place in a quaint little diner when two men walk in and sit down to order. They bicker back and forth about the menu until a server walks up to offer his assistance. The men reveal themselves as hitmen who are being paid to kill a man named Ole Anderson, who is known to be a regular customer at the diner. Hidden and restrained behind a counter, three men (two servers and the cook) are taken hostage by the villainous men, who wait for Anderson to arrive at his usual time, which is around 6 o’clock. As 6 o’clock passes, the men decide to leave and the hostages
The air in the Great Forest was bright and crisp, like any other morning. Sun shone through the oak tree branches in streaks of yellow and gold, as little critters danced through the shadows. The music of the morning doves and thumps of hurring paws surrounded the Great Forest like a blanket. The creatures of the forest relied on that calmness, that symbol of tranquility. The Great Forest was never quiet, never dull.
Once upon a time there was a calf named Silverado. Everyday she grazes in the back pastures with all her friend's. On one beautiful day Silverado was grazing in a far back pasture all by herself. The sun was beating down on her all white back. She could feel the heat.