The Visit

“I can’t stay, Robert. But tomorrow you’ll be free; we’ll be together. I’ve come to take you home with me… home Bobby. I love you, honey.” She blew her son a kiss placing her hand to the glass.

“I love you, too, mom…” But she was gone. He touched the glass where her hand had been. It was warm.

Back in his cell, Bobby felt alive. He didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t care. He was going home. Sleep settled over him like a comfortable shroud.

Early the next morning, the warden called cell block F. “I need to see Carson,” he said to the officer in charge. “Bring him to me.”

Several minutes later a guard tapped on the warden’s open door.

“Well…?”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)