From my first novel: Wheezy is in prison, victim of a gang attack, & now in a solitary cell.
Wheezy (...) convulsed pointlessly on the cot. Eventually, he gave up. He laid on his side, in the same fetal position he had been assuming since his arrival.
Food arrived at least a few hours later in the form of a watery broth.
“Hey, I’m cuffed! What am I supposed to do with this??” Wheezy called after the guard.
“Suck it!” answered the guard as he went up the hall.
Indeed, on the plastic tray was an unwrapped straw. Wheezy had to suck up his dinner.
It was at least a day later that a medic came in to look his wounds over. It was the same doctor who had given Wheezy the violent anal probe. Wheezy’s face froze in a steely eyed snarl of hate. The doctor ignored it, did his cursory look over, and rose to leave. Wheezy screamed at him, “You Bastard!!” The door clanked shut. “YOU BASTARD!!!”
In the hall, the doctor coolly said to a guard, “You hear that? He called me a bastard?” The guard made a mental note that “Wheezy” Gibson was a danger to himself and others.
COPYRIGHT 2015 BY MILTON KNIGHT