by Valerie Zwald

Created on: March 06, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

The sunset cast an orange glow across the grove of trees just outside the prison walls, but Darryl could not see them, could not appreciate the deep purple shadows being cast by the leaves that blew softly in the late August evening. The holding cell he was seated in, just off the corridor where he had been a citizen for the past two decades, had no windows. Death row has no windows. This particular cell was a bit bigger than that which had been his home, and it was better lit. Roomier, too. With no cots or sink or toilet, just a table and chairs.....

The heavy metal door slid to the side, and a guard stepped inside carrying a tray of food and a bottle of beer. "Dinner time, Darryl" he announced with a cheeriness that was too pointed. The SOB saw humor in this situation.... Darryl muttered something appreciative and watched the food as it was slid onto the table in front of him. It had been a long, long time since he had seen steak, or a real potato. How long since the bubbly sting of beer had slid down his dry, cracked throat? He grabbed hungrily for the utensils, then a wild roll in his gut made him pause. Nerves. After a moment he went back to eating, but with much less enthusiasm.
The guard was still standing over him, watching, still kind of amused. Darryl could feel his eyes, could hear the sarcasm drip from his lips as he asked "How's the food? Anything else I can get you?" Darryl simply shook his head "no" while he reached for his roll, not looking up. The guard continued to stand, rocking forward on his toes and back down again. What the hell was his problem?
"What's that? I didn't hear you?" the guard asked a little louder than was necessary, and to illustrate his point he cupped a hand to one ear. Wise ass. Darryl paused, butter knife in hand, wishing for a cold moment that it was something sharp and rusty...then he coolly looked up to meet the eyes of the guard who wanted to be a comedian.
"No thank you, everything is fine." Darryl's voice was even and smooth. This startled him almost as much as it startled the guard, who lost the little grin that had been pulling at the corners of his mouth. Darryl noticed that the very tips of the guard's ears where a deep crimson. That was enough to almost put a grin on Darryl's face. Almost.
"Okay...Yeah, well, enjoy your meal" The guard was turning away already, any irony in his words falling flat in the slate gray room. He paused at the door and called back over his shoulder "Oh yeah, your lawyer called -

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• Next Page >>