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Un blog para colgar historias.... short stories... cuentos... como quieran llamarlos... pero sepan q estos no son perfectos y que pueden tener (y lo mas probable es que tengan) errores de ortografia/tiempos verbales/coherencia/cohesion etc

entonces... xq leerlos?

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(no need to publish in INGLISH)

jueves

.The sheriff.


Unfortunately, I was born in a huge and noisy city where robberies and traffic jams were increasing. Being fifty years old, I was not able to tolerate that. As I had no family, some years before I found a new job in a remote town near the shore as a teacher in a secondary school and decided to give myself a break from that tiring life.
When I arrived at my new house, everybody in the town gave me a warm welcome. People from the neighbouring houses came to my place and offered their help. I really appreciated their hospitality. However, I preferred being alone at home reading my books and listening to my compact disks of Celtic music.
What I really enjoyed, was the company of a neighbour called Jim, who became a very good friend. He was the former sheriff of the town, but by that time he was retired. He was a widow and his two children, who had their own families at that moment, forgot what this good man had done for them in life. Jim and I were two solitary men and for that reason, we decided to meet at tea time every day to listen to some music and comment on the novel we were reading during that week.
On Saturdays, there was not meeting because Jim went fishing. Obviously, he shared the same hobby with others. Jim loved doing so, which was an activity I never was keen on. But one day, he invited me to go with him and I couldn’t refuse it.
That day we got up very early and at four o’clock in the morning we were prepared for an adventurous trip, or at least that was what I thought. We were four in total: the priest of our town called George, a fifteen-year-old student, Jim and I. All of us were truly expectative, but in my case, what excited me most was the fact that it was the first time in my life I would travel by boat. Time passed and despite I was not fishing like the other, I was terribly fascinated with that experience in which I was learning a lot about a new world I had never heard about: fishing.
At midday while having lunch, we started talking about guns. My student manifested his wish to become a sheriff.
- Really? – said Jim with bright eyes full of enthusiasm.
- Of course it’s true, in a few years I would like to be like you – said the boy grinning from ear to ear.
Jim forgot about the fishing and started talking to the kid about his jobs. Then he borrowed him the gun and explained him how to use it. Accidentally, the boy shot the gun against the priest who was standing in front of him. Unluckily, we could not arrive in time to bring him to land and priest George died. Although it sounds unfair, the boy was not considered guilty and Jim was sent to prison.
Personally I wouldn't never leave a person shoot a gun in the same boat I was in unless I was sure they knew something about guns. Jim was a sucker to leave a new beginner has his gun, let alone a half-wit. It probably served Jim right, what he got. But still we miss him round here.

Marian

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