The handcuffs snapped for the upteen time and the echo of the sound had that familiar ring to it. Another day, another detainee. I looked at his eyes. There was no hint of remorse. He sat there with a nonchalant look. He was a typical fellow with souless eyes.
He was clad in the famous yellow shirt and blue pants(no it is not the brazilian jersey). Just moments ago, he was partying at Hendrix, now he was sitting here, helpless, souless, pitiful and meek.
Just a grill seperated him from freedom. As the lock snapped shut on him, he slowly sat on the dirty cell floor, a floor that was occupied by thousand others, the smell of the previous detainee still lingered.
His hands still bore marks from the handcuff that was just removed. His movement was slow and lethargic. Just hours ago, he was partying like there was no tomorrow. But no one could blame him, he had all the time in the world. He need not rush. There was nothing to do anyway. A MP sat by the CCTV observing him. The silence was painful in sharp contrast to the blasting music in the disco.
I took one last look before walking out of the cell. I pity him but then again this is the consequence of AWOL. For future enlistees, please serve the army... (message brought to you by the Military Police).
Lindelof's early struggles at United
1 hour ago