Harry stares out the window. He sits and stares since his Ruby’s brutal murder.
He’d taken her to the museum; then, a dimly lit dinner. She was beautiful.
Harry noticed the waiter leer at her. She provoked men with her beauty.
Her eyes the color of emeralds.
Now, he sit and stares.
He doesn’t care if he leaves the room.
He doesn’t pay bills; watch television or knows who feeds him.
His life is whatever passes outside the window.
All he sees are changing seasons, joggers, passing cars and Ruby’s ghost.
But, there’s no window.
Padded cells have no windows.
2017©Isadora De La Vega
Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt:Dale Rogerson
To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Challenge
click here or the froggy button above