The minutes kept dropping, one by one, like the last handful of sand grains in an hourglass. When I was finished I refolded the paper, returned it to the pillowcase, and went back to watching the ceiling. It was important because it would be the last one, number one thousand five hundred and thirteen. My new mark was made carefully so I wouldn’t rip the paper. I would take it with me tomorrow when they opened the front gate and allowed me to walk out of here. Each one of the one thousand five hundred and twelve marks on that page was the tragic badge of a squandered day. Darkness was never absolute in here, not even in the middle of the night. It served its purpose though.Ĭarefully I unfolded the paper and stared at all the marks. Mine was a plastic ink tube wrapped in surgical tubing. Since a few months back there’d been a stabbing with one of the ballpoint pens issued from the commissary, the warden only allowed us to have crudely modified versions now. When I was sure the hour was past midnight I reached inside my pillow and withdrew a folded piece of notebook paper. For four years I’d been faithfully sending him letters. Words from a vanished childhood, a lost innocence. It seemed impossible that I would, at last, be free. It seemed impossible that I would see life outside the prison walls. It seemed impossible that tomorrow night would be different than every other night for the past four years. I’d been staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to calm the thud of my heart as Helio, my cellmate, rolled around and cursed through his dreams on the bunk below.

They all told me that no man sleeps the night before he walks. “It was only a sunny smile and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.” I love to hear from readers! Contact me at Author PageĪ betrayal that severed the bonds of blood and loyalty.Ī tragedy that ended one life and shattered the rest.Įveryone thought that because they knew how it ended they also knew how it started. SIGN UP HERE FOR NEWS AND SPECIAL OFFERS! Trademarks and locations are not sponsored or endorsed by trademark owners.Ĭover Design: © L.J. The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks and locations mentioned in this book. Any similarities to events or situations is also coincidental. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission.

Walk by Cora Brent