Murphy found himself wondering over the simple difference of being taken back to his room without his hands cuffed. This place gave the illusion of freedom and he hadn't decided yet if that was better or worse than prison.
The answer of 'much much better' immediately presented itself in Murphy's mind when he saw the steak. Real steak. Not a slab of stale, thick roast beef covered in mystery sauce. And he was reminded again that the cells were more like little motel rooms than prison cells. His bed wasn't chained hanging to the wall. Hell, he had peed three times today and no one had even watched him.
And during the day he wasn't running for his life. Which brought him to the coming night. What was he going to do? He'd made a promise to Nina, but on the board...well, it had sounded like she didn't really have that much need for someone to look out for her. Or had found someone else instead. Maybe he should have just asked 'anyone need some help?' on the notice board. But he was still trying to figure all he little codes and groups and everything else that made up that form of communication.
The set up of the room, however, told Murphy something very important. He wasn't alone. He'd never had a cellie in Ryall, and he was a little curious as to what kind of person they'd put in with him. Maybe it'd be someone who could use a hand....
But whatever. If not, Murphy had gotten used to being on his own. He settled down at his desk and dug heartily into the steak dinner before him, idly wondering what the rest of the evening would bring.
M50
Murphy found himself wondering over the simple difference of being taken back to his room without his hands cuffed. This place gave the illusion of freedom and he hadn't decided yet if that was better or worse than prison.
The answer of 'much much better' immediately presented itself in Murphy's mind when he saw the steak. Real steak. Not a slab of stale, thick roast beef covered in mystery sauce. And he was reminded again that the cells were more like little motel rooms than prison cells. His bed wasn't chained hanging to the wall. Hell, he had peed three times today and no one had even watched him.
And during the day he wasn't running for his life. Which brought him to the coming night. What was he going to do? He'd made a promise to Nina, but on the board...well, it had sounded like she didn't really have that much need for someone to look out for her. Or had found someone else instead. Maybe he should have just asked 'anyone need some help?' on the notice board. But he was still trying to figure all he little codes and groups and everything else that made up that form of communication.
The set up of the room, however, told Murphy something very important. He wasn't alone. He'd never had a cellie in Ryall, and he was a little curious as to what kind of person they'd put in with him. Maybe it'd be someone who could use a hand....
But whatever. If not, Murphy had gotten used to being on his own. He settled down at his desk and dug heartily into the steak dinner before him, idly wondering what the rest of the evening would bring.