The prisoner, with black, shaggy hair scaled the walls of the prison. He was leaving behind nasty memories of prison induced depression as he plunged into the icy cold sea.
As he swam across using a dog paddle, he spotted a police officer at the shore. However, his back was turned. As he climbed onto the dry coast, he looked around to see if the coast was clear. The convict looked to the sides to realise they were deserted roads.
If he turned left, he could escape, unnoticed. But if he chose to clobber the officer – he would get hold of a weapon, not to mention the fact that he might also obtain some money. But then, the catch was that they would be alerted of his escape.
But then he speculated that they were going to discover that he had escaped – after all the guard had been killed in cold blood. And of course his cell would be empty.
He had to decide. And fast.
As he pondered, he realised his coffee cup had also been empty for the past half hour; The author got up from his laptop and walked across to the coffee machine for a refill.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Week (July 22 – July 28, 2015) – 200 words.
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