Resting on the Bunk

Stretching out across the narrow mattress felt far too inviting to pass up. I shifted forward on the cot, crossing my hands flat over the thin gray blanket and gently resting my cheek directly on top of them. Leaning into the cool fabric, I turned my gaze outward toward the open front of the cell. The tiny iron cuffs lay neatly beside my elbow, glinting quietly against the rough textured brick wall. Lounging right here with a lazy smirk makes even an iron cell feel like my personal luxury suite.