Bed sheets neither the whitest, nor the cleanest; it surprisingly didn’t bother the dainty young woman who lay on top of the modest bed. She had found an odd peace at the inn. A soothing aura surrounded her body, ready to surrender to sleep. It was an extraneous voice that rang in her ears and dictated her actions lately. Yes, an influential murmuring to exercise control over her flagitious actions. Or perhaps it was nothing more than a convenient scapegoat. An easy way to blame something else for her own nefariousness. A thin excuse for her malign behavior. The concerning thoughts once again beginning to spark a debate within her little mind, Grace’s body rolled on the mattress. As the woman lay on her side, her knees bent in a fetal position. Her eyes twitched restlessly under the curtain of their lids. When she was now all alone to listen to her inner voice, she couldn’t feel so relaxed anymore. Faces and disturbing images flashed in her head. Unprovoked tears soon started to gently flow down from the corners of her closed eyes. Faint sobs disturbing the silence of the evening.<br/><br/>A sharper whimper came from downstairs however. “Old man!” A deep voice thundered in concern. “Pa!” A cowboy behind the bar counter, kneeled at a dead man’s head, preying out and begging his father came back. “Get up! What happened?” Playing the stubborn, wearing the mask of the tough cowpoke was almost mandatory across these harsh lands of the west, albeit not always easy to maintain. He stared down at the old man, dead eyes looking him back. It was pointless to try to sleep among the many howls of despair. Grace got out of her room slowly, and walked down the stairs even slower, making her way toward the bar like a ghostly presence. It was quite a tragic sight. Her short stay at<i>the lonely inn</i>had brought a curse upon the already struggling house. She had fucked two people today, just in different ways. The son had gotten lust, and the father succumbed to cold death. Desire and misery had balanced each other out. “Go to your room! Get back!” Watery eyes glared at the young woman, without any desire now.<br/><br/>Scolding cries of the man didn’t stop Grace however. “W-what happened?” She managed to ask, although the old innkeeper’s untimely demise was no mystery to her. A shiver ran down her spine. Her blank eyes watched the crime scene from above as she leaned over the counter. As she once again stood at the same spot, it was sorrow what accompanied her presence this time. There was agony in death, but she had also seen beauty in it as well. Something very subtle and elegant.<br/><br/>“I’m busy, don’t you see?” The cowboy kept shouting, however not leaving the cold body to ensure she stayed away from the scenery. Grace knew the words, the truth. The words that would replace the man’s anguish with fiery anger. However, she wasn’t brave enough for this unpleasant confession.<br/><br/>“I saw him. We talked. Laughed.” She admitted.<br/><br/>“When? How? What did he say?!” A few confusing questions arose. Strong men, unyielding brave little cowboys, tough guys. She was attracted to them as much as the next girl. However, emotional and vulnerable, more human in short, she adored those more. Yes, he was vulnerable, defenses lowered. Grace quietly sunk to her knees, sitting behind the suffering man.<br/><br/>“Drinking. Humoring me even. He looked fine.” One of her arms ran around his chest in a demure hug. What had the old innkeeper actually said, and what she had put into his lips herself, it was a blur for the sick brunette. “Mentioned her daughter.” Her coiled arm embraced the man, gradually sliding up from his chest to his neck.<br/><br/>“Damn you Shirley… Look what happened when you ran off.” He suggested. The old man had started to drink more when her dear daughter flew away from the mining town. To follow her dreams, or rather a rebellious boy. Grace put her chin on his shoulder, hugging him from behind and whispering into his ear as if talking aloud would awaken the dead.<br/><br/>“Let them rest from cruel labor, for their deeds shall follow them upon calm.” The woman unwrapped her arm from the man’s neck, taking support from his broad shoulders to rise to her feet. To mourn his loss, she quietly left him alone. At least, the town had a new, better able innkeeper if one needed it again.