Runboard.com
You're welcome.
SAMPLE BANNER




runboard.com       Sign up (learn about it) | Sign in (lost password?)

 
Seager Profile
Live feed
Blog
Friends
Miscellaneous info

Registered user

Registered: 04-2008
Posts: 160
Reply | Quote
Sleeping With The Fishes


Four well armed and cautious guards lead the man down the hallway, his hands and feet shackled. The roar of the prisoners escalates for each cell they pass. They shout his name and bang their tin cups against the steel bars, all of them thrilled at his departure. All of them with one less threat to worry over.

The guards lead the shackled man into the office, where yet another awaits his presence behind a desk. The guard opens the chest upon his desk and clears his throat, somewhat nervously.

"One silver cigarette case. One unused lambskin prophylactic." Pausing for a moment, the guard grimaces and uses his dagger to pull another object from the chest.

"One... soiled. One black suit jacket. One pair black suit pants. One hat..." Using his fist, the guard punches the hat back to full size. "Black."

Twenty minutes later, the now well dressed man stood on the steps outside the Avendel Penitentiary. After adjusting his hat so that it sat perfectly upon his head, nimble fingers place a long desired cigarillo between his lips and strike a match.


Last edited by Seager, 8/13/2009, 2:05 pm
8/13/2009, 2:04 pm Link to this post Send Email to Seager   Send PM to Seager
 


Add a reply





You are not logged in (login)