"The ancestors must have granted me this weather." thought the prisoner. Nobody, animal or man could see me sneak about if I could only get out.
He was sitting inside a cage of sturdy wood, looking a bit like a rib-cage he thought to himself the first time he laid eyes on the damned thing. Now he wanted to forget how it looked, felt, smelt.
"Aha! Guard is doing his rounds, maybe I can..."
The guard was walking slowly across the path lined with cages, but because of the rain, it had moved a slight bit closer to his spot. The guard would turn right after this, he knew.
Slosh, slosh. Heavy booted feet stomped away in the mud. "I hope my arm is long enough."
He reached out just as the guard wen...
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