The days dragged on with the same old prison routine. Slopping out. Two meals a day. Scratching from next door. Evil Archie looking in on me and baring his teeth.
Then one day she walked in again, with a guard. I crouched in the corner and hissed. She didn't seem impressed at all. 'Strict house arrest', the guard said. 'He's a fighter - be careful with those long claws'.
Later that day, I was covered up in a blanket and huddled into a prison van with bars on the windows. I was being transported out of that place!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment