Bo squinted through the bars and blinked. It was a bright sunny day and he thought it must be summer, although it might still be spring. He could never remember when the seasons officially changed or what that’s called. When you’re in the big house for all day and a night that shit doesn’t matter. People on the outside call the stretch he was doing “true life” and he had it figured that’s because they actually have one. Bo knew his only way out was a back-door parole and that had started to sound pretty good to him lately. There was more than one way to do the dutch and he just needed to decide which one he had the balls for.
© 2024 Eric Stromquist
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