Oregonal Sin

Long day. Good day. Chris had a fondness for long days. Meant everything was quiet and peaceable about town, and he wasn't filling every damn hour with keeping a peace that should be able to keep itself. Long day meant he didn't have too many qualms on hanging his hat up at the office and swinging by the saloon for a drink to shake off the dust of that long day.

He took a free spot at the bar, one boot resting on the rung of a stool looked like to be clear for sitting sometime real soon, and waited to catch the eye of someone able to quench his thirst. "Seems real busy tonight," he remarked to the person next to him. "Must be why there ain't nobody out makin' trouble."

Fine clear afternoon. Late summer, early autumn, well clear of noon, the town square was busy with folk running errands, going about their business, meeting up...whatever it was they felt the need to do on a sunny weekday afternoon.