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 |  Flash fiction stories... |
| The dark cell was quiet this late at night. Vince awoke to the sound again. The strange, wonderful scraping against the window bars in the prison chamber he shared with two other men. He prayed his cellmates wouldn’t wake up. It had happened once before, and he’d had to bloody one of their noses so they knew the danger of interrupting his quiet nights. He was prepared to act violently again, but still… Pretending to be the tough guy, the “Bubba” was difficult but necessary. This life had forced him to do many things he never thought he could do. Things that gave him nightmares, and made restful sleep a rare event. That’s why this visit was so important to him. Important, but hazardous. If the others found out, he’d be ruined. He cringed to think about what would happen if his tough exterior were discovered to be a fraud. Vince crept out of bed. Creeping was hard to do in a concrete room with beds constructed of metal so that every movement was frighteningly loud. He stood, and kept still for several moments, to make sure that his “friends” stayed asleep. Satisfied, he met his visitor at the barred window. He stuck his hand out and felt the familiar wet welcome of the cat’s sandpaper tongue on his hand. Vince offered the feline the piece of dried out roast beef from dinner and his friend accepted it with enthusiasm. He longed to hold Snowball, and stroke her fur as he wept. Alas, she was too big to fit into his dungeon. He couldn’t pretend much longer. He feared his cellmates were on to him. He curled up in a tight ball and shook with silent sobs until daybreak. |
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