How, exactly, does one describe an opening scene in what’s promising to be an intelligent and interesting Western? Why, with a hangover, a gun, and falling asleep on the shitter of course!
Aaron Bunce’s “It Came from the Devil’s Mouth” (a starter story) covers all the dusty bases of Western Fiction: A naked woman, whiskey, gun belts and an outhouse. There’s grit and sand and blaring morning sun. But there’s something else too, something more: Voice strong and clear, a near clarion call to keep reading. Bunces uses exquisite, careful detail to instantly smash the readers face against a sticky stained floor board, shoe horning us (willingly) into the ramshackled and painfully alcohol soaked life of Mathias P. Wilson.
The story demands our attention from the outset it never begs nor whimpers nor persuades. “It Came from the Devil’s Mouth” roars with a voice so strong as to transport, insert, and deliver on promises that have not been (and do not need to be) made.
Aaron Bunce has set a beautiful stage and I cannot wait to see what becomes of the once decorated Union soldier turned anti-hero.