If those cold grey stones could talk, what tales they could tell…
Of the woman shackled in a straightjacket while the man who drove her to madness sipped wine at home.
Or the boy whose friends were put to rest by putting his mind to sleep.
Of the wailing mother who was certain that her baby was still in her womb.
Of the man in tremors pleading for just one shot – by God he knew people and could pay the price.
Of the girl who went down on her knees just to keep the demons at bay.
Not all prisons have jailors, some have doctors.
Written for Friday Fictioneers with photo prompt by J Hardy Carroll
Very strong. You paint a clear and disturbing picture of a ‘caring’ institution.
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…just the kind of jaunty light-hearted reading you need in a Sunday morning! Good stuff…
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Oops…sorry…and thanks
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…And hungover I might add – I’m sure the psychological scarring won’t be permanent…
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😂
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Very haunting, great writing.
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Thank you
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Very powerful, succinct writing
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Thank you
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Powerfully executed. Well done!
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Glad you liked it. Thanks.
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You are an impressive writer. I’m glad you left a like with me today so I could find you. I’m marking your follow. Hope to see you more.
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Thank you so much. Those are very encouraging words indeed.
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