****
The sun was on the verge of setting making the sky a reddish orange hue. Dressed in his civilian clothing, and toting his lunch box, Mack came strolling out of the back door of the correctional facility, heading out into the parking lot, which was enclosed by four gates. He was talking to a couple of the other fellas that he worked with, but when he neared his vehicle, he bid them a farewell before going on about his business
“Alright, I’ll see y’all niggaz tomorrow, man,” Mack slapped hands with all of his co-workers and continued towards his car.
Mack smiled seeing his candy apple red ’64 Chevrolet Impala on gold Daytonas, sitting low to the ground. All four windows of the classic car were tinted black. The vehicle was beautiful. The paint job on it was flawless. It had been waxe
