The Exile

Flash Fiction/ Western

[This story was inspired by Bradley Ramsey’s Power Up Prompt #23 - 12.27.25]

“Been here long?” the prisoner said.

“Twenty years,” the deputy replied, not inviting further conversation.

“Long time in one place.”

“Yes.”

“What brought you out here?”

“It’s my post.”

“You must’a been young.”

The deputy didn’t reply.

“Did you choose this post?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does.”

“Big town didn’t suit me.”

“You don’t say.”

The deputy surprised himself by adding,”It’s quiet here.”

“It sure is.”

“No big names,” the deputy said. “Keeps things simple.”

“I can see that.”

The deputy glanced at the prisoner through the bars of the cell, wondering what he meant. “You’re a big name.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The sheriff had arrived the day before, bringing the prisoner, giving the deputy pointed instructions to guard him carefully. “The sheriff was looking for you,” the deputy said. “You must be important.”

For the first time, the prisoner fell silent.

“Why was the sheriff after you?”

“It’s his job,” the prisoner said.

The deputy was used to the company of thieves. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“I took money from a rich man.”

“What about it?”

“He stole that money from a lot of people.”

The deputy waited for the rest of the story.

“Him and the sheriff, they work together.”

The deputy looked away, considering this bit of information. “What about your partner?”

“Your sheriff won’t find him, or the money.” The prisoner spoke with confidence, which the deputy recognized was exaggerated.

“It might take him a while,” the deputy said. He had discovered the corruption of a superior twenty years before, he knew the likely outcome.

“He’ll go after the money.”

“He wouldn’t like it if you got away.”

“You might get in trouble.”

“Nowhere else they could send me,” the deputy said.

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