Fiction Smackdown

The two men stood across from each other in the dusty street, their arms loosely hanging at their sides. People scurried into buildings around them, slamming doors and shutting windows. However the men's gaze's didn't flicker away from each others eyes, or their right hands that were placed on top of their guns. 

"It's not worth it son" the first man said, his eyes blocked by the rim of his hat. 

"Afraid of losing old timer?" the young man jaunted. 

"We don't have to do this, you're to young to die" said the old man. 

The young man stomped his left foot into the ground impatiently, raising a puff of dust that danced away in the wind. "Stop stalling old man, and lets do this"

"What makes you so confident son?"

"What makes you old man?"

"I asked you first son"

"You're blind in your right eye. Err'one round here says so, I reckon I got this here duel in the bag"

"Why do you wanna kill me son"

"I heard things that you've done"

"You heard wrong"

"Shuddup old man and draw" the young man yelled. 

The old man didn't move. 

"You want to bet your life on a rumor that says I can't see out of my right eye" 

"You can't kill me if you can't fuckin' see" said the young man as he drew his gun. 

A shot rang out in the empty street. The old man was standing exactly where he had been, with the young man staring back at him. As he raised his head to let the young man see his eyes, he placed his gun back into his holster. The young man looked into his eyes, and then slumped back to the ground. The old man pulled his hat back down below his eyes, walking back to his horse he kept his head lowered. The young man lay sprawled in the street. People began to slowly come out of their houses  to survey the damage. As he was riding away the old man could hear a scream of anguish, he pushed his horse into a run.