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Roylsden #174

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Sheriff Cole loved evenings.
This evening was different though. He'd slept a little on the jailhouse cell bunk, always useful for a quick afternoon siesta. For one, the barred window faced west, so come early evening the sun shone bright red into your eyes and woke you up. For another, the bunk was so goddam hard you had to be dog-tired to sleep for much more than an hour.
This evening was no exception. The sun glared blindingly and the bunk prodded and punched every time he moved. He gave up, washed and headed back to the Cody place.

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