All Silent on the Flint

“Alright, Sheriff!”

“Whoa. Whoa! Stop right there!” Sheriff leaned overboard and disconnected the winch strap. He stood up and clutched his back. Another kidney infection; hurts like hell. He slowly made his way from the bow to the rear of the boat.

“Go!” Sheriff Jones said, sitting down.

“Alright,” Bobby said. The trailer disappeared into the water, and the boat slowly drifted to the channel. Sheriff lowered the motor into the cold, murky water and had it cranked by the fourth pull.

“You can take the truck back up and park it!” Jones shouted.

The pickup moved forward. Sheriff guided the boat to the ramp so Bobby could jump on board.





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