Noah — Gravelly western narrator

Gravelly western narrator, weathered, slow, and full of dust and regret

Prompt: A gravelly old male voice, sun-cracked and slow, like boot leather dragged across a desert of dust and regret. His low drawl grinds and rumbles, sanding down word endings, taking all the time in the world between sentences—because out here, time is the only thing left in supply. Grim humor flickers under the rasp. It's the voice of a man narrating from a porch at dusk, rifle across his knees, telling you how it really happened.

Script: Folks'll tell you the town died when the railroad passed it by. That ain't so. It died the morning Cole Barrett rode in with two guns and one grudge. And I was fool enough to be standing in the middle of the street.