The First
The cement walls boxed the darkness. A 40W incandescent bulb burned dimly above my head, yet the heat sufficient to melt the pomade from my slick. The torturer’s face was masked by the shadows, same with mine. Wrists were tied, yet kept comfortable with the Nylon rope. My feet, hurting from the lack of arch support my Converse low tops. My breath… oh the breath. I was denied a mint despite my onion dish. She sat adjacent to my 2-o-clock position. I collapsed under the pressure, and was forced to publish my first Tumblr post as a plead for help. Damn this computer is slow.
