Klempner - The Present
Hands and ankles cuffed, I wait in the yard. A grey sky spits rain on the grey tarmac, grey stonework and the dark grey uniforms of my guards.
The van arrives, equally grey, pulling up close by. Paired metal doors swing open at the back, revealing the inside, stark and gloomy, a slatted bench flush to either side. Hoops and bars project from the framework for the restraint of high-risk transportees.
“In you go, Larry...” Hartwell pokes me in the ribs with his baton, playfully…
Think it’s funny, do you…
“… I don’t know what i***t thinks you belong in a low-security prison but I’ll not be sorry you’re not my responsibility anymore.”
I say nothing, all obedience, stepping up to the van. My movement is awkward in my cuffs as I grab the handle to pull myself up. Su
