Six Sunday #11
The sound of her ragged breathing and her skin dragging across the floor intruded on the stillness. She passed each cell as if she were still a prisoner – with her eyes straight ahead. She didn’t want to see the small, barren cells with the thin, infested bedrolls. She didn’t want to wonder about the dark spots staining the concrete.
Light leaked through the doorframe, blinding her. Sunlight so thick she thought she’d have been able to taste it if it weren’t for the dank remains of unwashed bodily fluids lining her mouth.