“There’s someone to see you, Sam,” the prison guard unlocked the door.
Sam wobbled his arthritic legs towards the booth as David stood up to greet him, watching him carefully. Head shaped like a melon; dirty blonde hair ruched back.Eyes the color of marble. David talked, while matching Sam’s features to his own. For clues. Sam pretended to listen, interrupting the monologue with indifferent silence – impatient to return to the familiarity of his cell.
David got up.
“Disappointed in me, kid?”
“Not really, I’m glad we aren’t alike at all.” David pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, crushing the paper Rosie gave him with his dad’s name and possible address.
Word count: 110
Above in response to voice week 2013 – voice 4