Day 10, TINSEL RAIN NaNoWriMo: 23387/60000.

Had to redo the outline. It makes everything easier, dammit.

Everybody knows the Hombre. He’s been around so long some people think he’s a golem or something, but that’s not true. I’ve seen him eat. And drink. Man, have I seen him drink. Then again, I’ve known him for years and he don’t change much, so maybe he’s a spirit, slumming around with a body whenever he feels like it. Or maybe he’s just the Hombre. Either way, he knows stuff other people doesn’t, sometimes. Often enough it’s worth looking him up.

The Hombre was in the third spot I visited, which is about what I expected; he gets around a bit. He was just finishing up lunch when found him, and he made that half-cynical, half-pleased face he saves for when I’m coming around. “Hola, Tom! You’re gonna need to butter me up a little first.”

“You wound me, Hombre,” I said as I grabbed a seat and waved for the waitress. “I penciled in a full hour for cadging information out of you. Because I’m nice like that.”

“Ain’t you a humanitarian. And did I say you could sit?”

“Nope!” I said, happily. “You also didn’t say you wanted a boilermaker and for me to run a tab, either.”

“Dammit,” the Hombre said mildly. “You got me on that one.”