[ WP ] You are ageless and have lived for centuries . One day you see someone you 're certain you recognise , and not from this particular era .

The young man rode into town on the black and white spotted horse that was like an ant on the brown desert plains. He had a brown beard. It was night and in the black sky the stars were vivid and so numerous it was like an ocean. The year is 1854. 
 
 The town before him was small and basic, streets of dirt road, crisp flat wood buildings. The largest building in the town was four stories in the center of the town ’ s main street. It was the only building in town that high and with a clover-shaped roof. 
 
 There were only a few people in the streets. They were quickly walking by and did n't even take notice of the man, as he and the horse traced traced like shadows the line of the street. One man, shadowed, stumbled in the dark, arms balancing him. In the short distance was the clover-shaped building that was massive compared to the small buildings in a row beside it. Music is coming from the building, and as the young man approaches the sound gets louder. He hears the organ playing like blues guitar and shouts, whoops and laughter, grown men in the night. 
 
 The young man brings the horse to a trough filled with water, tied him there and looked out and around the town. He was wearing a dusty dark brown trenchcoat. His eyes looked up from under his hat. The building in front of him, four stories high, had a large white sign with lit up gold and red lettering, Mickey ’ s. As soon as he enters he is flooded with warm golden light, bustling music and a riotous party. The yells and laughter were as loud as the organ. Naked women straddled men left and right, rough men who had guns clanking on their belt and were soaked with sweat and dust. When they laugh, the women's backs arch back and they bring their breasts to the men ’ s faces, whose breath ooze with alcohol and the smell of tobacco. On the second story, a man exits one of the doors, buttoning up his dress shirt and pants. Moans of pleasure are as frequent as the strikes against the organ keys. 
 
 That was when he saw her. A dark black woman in a black vest, grey dress shirt, and grey jeans. She has black boots and long-barreled pistols on both hips. She puts her cowboy hat on as locks eyes with the young man. She was at the bar, a half-empty mug of beer in her hand. She puts it down and puts her hand on her guns, resting them there. It was him and it was her. She had found him. And he knew she would already beat him. 
 
 The young man was not everything he seemed, but his strangeness was invisible to the cacophony in the whorehouse. Only she knew who he was, and only because she was that too -- human, yes, but imbued with the consciousness of immortal, non-matter beings that were as vast as galaxies, that roamed the greater universe like ghosts. They sometimes would create human forms and perceive different worlds through their eyes. Here she was, the young woman, agelessm who had been travelling through eons of Earth ’ s history, observing its jurassic periods, its wars, its plagues. And here he was, the young man, playing the same part of tourist on this rare planet that had life. 
 
 He had been responsible for a string of bank robberies through the cities and towns of California. He had waved his shotgun in the air like a flag and broke into vaults, filled bag after bag with the cash and gold. Only he knew where the money was -- hidden in a cave a few miles outside the town. The young woman pulled both her pistols out just as the man felt the cold steel of his gun ’ s handle. Shots were firing and the young man shook and stumbled back as bullets burst in his chest and blood sprayed. His body thudded on the wood floor. The young woman firmly pressed her right boot on his chest. Red blood overflowed onto it. She smiles, speaks in the sudden silence that has taken hold of the whorehouse. 7,500 dollars, she says aloud and to everyone. 
 
 In the silence of the night, just outside the whorehouse, with no warning the young man suddenly reappears, spontaneously, a flash. He enters the space in silence, exactly as he was, is alive. He gets on the black and white horse. Before he rides away, he mutters under his breath, Every single time dammit. 
 

