Dawson Kesler

Walls…nothing flat gray walls and a concrete floor. That’s all you have seen for the past few years. The only source of water is the occasional rain that drips through a hole in the ceiling. Food? The occasional bird or rat that strays too close to you. But today, you hear the crunch of glass under someone’s feet. Your too weak to move around, and too tired to open your eyes. The foot steps stop in the doorway to your cell and you hear someone say hey, can you hear me?