By A Lost Boy
With a staggered click, followed by an unmistaken chug of heavy machinery, I was torn away from slumber. My crusted eyelids batted, once, twice, three times before withdrawing into my skull, overwhelmed in the midst of the fluorescent light which liberated me from darkness.
We weren’t to be alone that evening. There was far too many footsteps to follow a single person. When the concept of company presented itself, I’d compensate by puffing out my chest, and shuffling as much as the shackles would permit. I’m not at all sure why that was, it’s not as if I was going anywhere.
The draft surging inward annunciated that merciless cold which was the concrete beneath my feet. It was as though I could only feel, function and exist in the presence of others. A sheet of cigar smoke draped itself over my shoulders, forcing my nostrils to stretch out at fresh air, and then some, upon the failed attempt to gasp through the gag.