FLASH FRIDAY CHALLENGE: 100 WORDS
PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey
Jack fidgets with his earthy hands. Dry, cracked skin that time consumed. He hardly recognizes them anymore. The shackles, a reminder of days he wore a younger man’s clothes, are removed.
Freedom. It smells like musty water and sweaty men.
The sun shines through the holes in the fence and warms his face. He musters a grin. Sweat beads across his aged forehead.
40 years can change a man.
The Bridgeway seems longer than the courtyard stories suggested. He sees her in the distance. Frail, grey-haired and wheelchair bound. She came.
And it’s clear.
A mother’s love knows no judgement