The Lone Star

The third book by Ragman Jones The Lone Star. An excerpt:

Sold to the man with the black heart.

On the first day of a very hot June afternoon, Johnny walked into a bar. That was the last day of the rest of his life. He sat at the bar of The Lone Star café waiting to order a bag of weed, some downers and a beer. He didn't know he was ordering anything except the beer. The rest would follow. The whores upstairs were sleeping off the night before. Behind the bar stood three people, The first was a good looking woman in her mid twenties, the second was a tall thin man, with rock and roll sideburns and the last was the angel. Only Johnny could see the angel. At least that was what he thought. The bar was on the shore of South Texas, in a town I cannot recall. The locals were the only patrons, no one else came in through the outdoor. Scattered around the bar were some other lost souls, whiling away hours, hustling, listening to the music, playing pool and talking.

The woman behind the bar approached Johnny's stool and asked him his name, he told her, but looked around at the walls, ignoring her gaze. She told him she looked hungry. “Ain't no flies on her” he thought. Johnny was hungry, not for food he had just eaten, his appetite was for living or dying. It would depend on the way you looked at it, as to what you concluded. Johnny was undecided himself.

With no ambition for anything particular, other than a drink Johnny asked for a beer. A cold beer. From the fridge. “Anything else with that, hun?” asked the tall thin man. Johnny smiled. The atmosphere was undecided, that was usual, and just the time of day. The angel had not moved, she was tired. She just pointed at a sign which said PARADISE and still didn't offer up a word.