Language English . i have been reading aloud to others for many years
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EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
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If we were villains by M L Rio act one prologue, I sit with my wrist cuffed to the table and I think, but that I am forbid to tell the secrets of my prison house. I could a tail and fold whose lightest word with the harrow up the soul? The guard stands by the door watching me like he's waiting for something to happen. Enter Joseph Colborn. He is a green man now, almost 50. It's a surprise every few weeks to see how much he's aged and he's aged a little more every few weeks for 10 years. He sits across from me, folds his hands and says, Oliver Joe heard the parole hearing went your way. Congratulations. Oh, thank you. If I thought you meant it, you know, I don't think you belong in here. That doesn't mean you think I'm innocent. No, he sighs, checks his watch the same one he warned says we met as if I'm boring him. So why are you here? I asked same fortnightly reason. His eyebrows make a flat black line. You would say ******* Fortnite. You could take the boy out of the theater or something like that. He shakes his head simultaneously amused and annoyed. Well, I say, well, what the gallows does? Well, but how does it? Well, it does well, to those that do ill or reply, determined to deserve his annoyance. Why are you here? You should know by now? I'm not going to tell you anything. Actually, he says this time. I think I might be able to change her mind. I sit up straighter in my chair, How I'm leaving the force sold out, took a job in private security, got my kids' education to think about for a moment. I simply stare at him. Colborn, I always imagined would have to be put down like a savage older dog before he'd leave the chief's office. How is that supposed to persuade me? I asked anything you say will be strictly off the record. Then why bother? He sighs again and all the lines on his face deepen Oliver. I don't care about doling out punishment. Not anymore. Someone will serve the time and we rarely get that much satisfaction in our line of work. But I don't want to hang up my hat and waste the next 10 years wondering what really happened 10 years ago. I say nothing at first. I like the idea but don't trust it. I glanced around at the grim central blocks, the tiny black video cameras that peer down from every corner, the guard with his jet in underbite. I close my eyes, inhale deeply. And imagine the freshness of Illinois spring time. What it will be like to step outside after gasping on stale prisoner for a third of my life. When I exhale, I open my eyes and Colborn is watching me closely. I don't know. I say I'm getting out of here one way or the other. I don't want to risk coming back. Seems safer to let sleeping dogs lie. His fingers drum restlessly on the table. Tell me something he says. Do you ever lie in your cell? Staring up at the ceiling wondering how you wound up in here and you can't sleep because you can't stop thinking about that day. Every night I say without sarcasm. But here's the difference, Joe for you. It was just one day than business as usual for us. It was one day and every single day that came after I lean forward on my elbows. So my face is only a few inches from his. So he hears every word when I lower my voice. You must eat your life, not knowing, not knowing who, not knowing how, not knowing why, but you didn't know him. He wears a strange queasy expression. Now, as if I've become unspeakably ugly and awful to look at. You've kept your secrets all this time. He says it would drive anyone else crazy. Why do it? I want to do you still? My heart feels heavy in my chest. Secrets carry weight like lead