Tillman's handshake was firm and confident and he might have held on a second longer than he needed to. Physical contact had been pretty scarce in the past two years, and the kind that he had received had largely been attempts at his life or being cuffed or otherwise dominated. The last person he had shaken hands with was his lawyer.
Crane's hand was soft and just a little cold. Tillman released him and lay back to stare at the ceiling once more. "See you later, Doc," was all he said.
The door clicked shut, the harsh heavy sound of metal on metal temporarily shattering the silence. Tillman closed his eyes and listened but after the walls absorbed the resounding clatter, there was nothing but silence. No footsteps in the halls, no murmur of guards, no screaming prisoners talking through the walls. It might have been relaxing if it weren't for the knowledge that he was in an asylum. He hadn't taken an insanity plea for a reason and yet here he was. Two years into a sentence, half a year away from freedom, and here he was at square one in a dank, shadowy little cell.
Tillman traced the letters of his tattoo without looking at it. Just a little bit longer.
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Date: 2012-01-31 07:39 pm (UTC)Crane's hand was soft and just a little cold. Tillman released him and lay back to stare at the ceiling once more. "See you later, Doc," was all he said.
The door clicked shut, the harsh heavy sound of metal on metal temporarily shattering the silence. Tillman closed his eyes and listened but after the walls absorbed the resounding clatter, there was nothing but silence. No footsteps in the halls, no murmur of guards, no screaming prisoners talking through the walls. It might have been relaxing if it weren't for the knowledge that he was in an asylum. He hadn't taken an insanity plea for a reason and yet here he was. Two years into a sentence, half a year away from freedom, and here he was at square one in a dank, shadowy little cell.
Tillman traced the letters of his tattoo without looking at it. Just a little bit longer.