Shame from BASEMENT

6 Sep



Mike sat on the edge of his bunk in the semi-darkness. Slim and pale, his head gave the impression of being too large for his body. Shirley had noticed that he always wore a white dress shirt, though it was frayed and hopelessly soiled at the cuffs. The few times she had seen him out of his chair he walked as though his feet hurt. As far as Shirley could tell, whole days passed without Mike even turning on the light in his cell.

“Why do you sit here in the dark?” asked Shirley. “Are you angry about being locked up?”

Mike shook his head, “I’m not angry. It’s a lot worse than that.” Mike looked down at his Thom McCann brogans. “You know, it’s funny. When you’re a kid and someone says, ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself,’ you never are. It’s talk, nothing more. And then, when it finally comes to you, real shame, I don’t think there’s anything worse.”


From my novel BASEMENT, available on Amazon


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