Writing Fiction With Nhamo Muchagumisa : The Broken Triangle

There is nothing more aggravating than the certainty of the night for one spending it behind bars, and feeling the second night settling faster than the first night By Nhamo Muchagumisa The walls of the remand prison were like a great monstrosity that would watch every movement Feline would make, to ensure that all her woes would either stay or increase. The skylight, peeping from the high roof of the prison cell, could hardly illuminate the room. Its purpose was probably to ensure that the inmates were able to see their way to the stinking toilet seat, but it was unlikely that anyone would get lost on the way to the consumer of human waste because it was easy for an inmate to follow her sense of smell. As she lay on a thin blanket that covered the concrete floor, another one of like nature covering her body, she sensed an uncomfortable dampness, rising from the coldness of the floor, seeping through her clothes into the tenderness of her skin.

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