Ficly

I Could Turn and Stay

I come back into town for the funeral. I left the badge that let me escape it behind. The time for running is over, even for someone as scared and pathetic as me.

I look out the window of the stagecoach. Familiar landmarks are cropping up all over, places I’d been growing up, places that hadn’t changed a bit in years but would never be the same.

The Sheriff was gone.

He’d shown me these places, taught me, raised me. His daughter…

Faces flash before my eyes, friends, rivals, strangers. The people I’d fled from. It’ll have been two years tomorrow, but it feels like it happened this morning.

The stagecoach rolls into town, and I see faces that match the ones in my memories crop up like the landmarks we’d passed along the way. But the big one, the one I use to guide my path, is gone.

And as I exit the stagecoach and adjust my hat, the faces I see tell me that he’s not the only landmark that’s missing.

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