"So you're here seekin' the old town off in the west." The gray-bearded old timer scoffs and kicks back in his rocking chair, almost leading himself into a chuckle but not quite getting to the meat of it. He then sighs, and his voice softens. "Son, we don't go there anymore. What's a hero like you lookin' for that ol' place?" He expects an answer, but got none. The dust-caked cowboy standing right up in his worn boots wasn't one for talking. A sorrowful look relaxes the muscles on his wrinkled face. "You're a lot like my cousin, y'know. Ain't much for conversation, wanderin' around hopin' things show up for 'im. Anyways, you're better off headin' north, that's where he went." As the cowboy tips the brim of his hat forward with a half-faced smile, and tips it back, he turns around to follow the town's road, away from the wooded porch. Before he could leave the rustic facade, however, the old man stops him with a few words. "If you get over there without vultures encirclin' you, could you say something to 'im for me? Just that Anna misses 'im sickly." A nod, and that young adventurer was off. Whether or not that old timer would nap his last never came to his mind, all there was in there was just the message he needed to send, and the world he wanted to see again.
ooooh this sounds lke something you would put in a western, where the hero has just lost a large conflict, and goes off into the desert, ashamed, before someone comes and convinces them to return. Great job!!!!
Everything is gone. There is nothing left for you here. The things you once held close is now nothing but dust and memories. All you can do is leave this ghost town behind, and look to the future no matter how uncertain it may be. Good luck hero.