Love the twist at the end!
The Sheriff slid his patrol car to a stop on the gravel shoulder of county road 555. He got out, looked at the setting sun for a moment, then opened the trunk and pulled out a rifle. He worked the rifle’s lever action, loading a round into the chamber as he walked towards a campfire. Homeless think they can just waltz through my county. Third time this month.
A sitting man warmed his hands over the fire. A rope tied to two trees with a tarp thrown over it served as his tent. The man stood as the Sheriff approached. “Hello officer.”
“It’s not officer. It’s Sheriff. You alone here, son?”
“Yes, Sheriff. Just camping for one night. I’ll be up at first light and on to the next county. I won’t leave any mess behind.”
“Uh-huh.” The sheriff lifted one end of the tarp with the rifle barrel, revealing an…
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