You Ain’t Welcome Here

We don’t get many visitors round these parts. We don’t take kindly to ’em either. It’s not so much that this is a one-horse town, we just got our own ways of doing things and we don’t like ’em changing. It’s harder now than it used to be. People always tryin’a build railroad tracks ‘tween us and them bigger cities. Or put in them telegraph poles so we can all communicate. Sometimes visitors come riding through, but we don’t let ’em stay for too long. Otherwise they might notice that folks here are a little stranger than they’re used to.

On the surface everything looks just dandy. We got them big hats to keep the sun off and deep holsters for keeping our guns in. We walk like them other Westerners do. We talk like ’em. Eat like ’em. Hell, we even got them double, swinging saloon doors that our sheriff walks through at the first sign o’ trouble. You would think nothing of it if you was just passing through.

But if you stayed a little longer you might notice that we all got the same colour eyes. That we don’t never take our hats off, not even if we’re inside. That at night everyone in the town sheds their skin and sleeps hanging upside down from the rafters.

We don’t want folks like you noticing things like that.

We know how y’all treat those who come here from other places. They just sneak across that teenie tiny ocean and you brand ’em all as ‘aliens’, ‘illegals’. Then you ship ’em off, or you make ’em work for ya. We don’t want none of that. If y’all knew how far we’d come, if y’all knew we’d arrived here on a comet, you’d lock us up for good. Try and cut through our scales to see what we got underneath. Nah, we don’t want any of that. We’re just drilling ’til we got enough fuel to get home.


Inspired by the Three Word Challenge by The Haunted Wordsmith.

Edit: Think I did the pingback wrong, so apologies for any multiple notifications!

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