The Ex-Con Returns To Jail
Flash Fiction Friday #FFF
“While everyone was fighting for my freedom, they didn’t stop to realize I might not be able to live outside those four walls?” Martin’s voice echoed in the dark cavern, and I cast my head about, trying to pick him out against the darkened shadows.
My ragged breaths, loud in my ears, did not help.
“After years behind bars as a monkey, now you expect me to be out here walking upright like a man, putting on a suit, catching the bus, briefcase in hand?”
I tucked my knees closer to my chest and gasped and as his shadow cut across the milky band of light streaming in from the open door, coming from a direction I did not expect. A splash, followed by the intensification of the stench of decay, a smell I had stopped noticing after a few minutes in this desolate place.
“I am no man. I am an animal. You made me an animal.” His hulking form fractioned the weak light as he stepped in front of the ajar door, the only way in and out of this hell hole.
“I am going back to jail counselor. Three square meals, clothes on my back, roof over my head and a community. That is much more than I have out here.” He puffed hard through his open lips, the sprayed spittle catching the light like glitter.
