Jess Duncan

  • Jessica Duncan

5 am. Al stands outside the prison by his car. Three hours until his shift starts, but he's been here all night. He coughs up dark, thick phlegm. It clogs his throat, some days he lets it. The summer sun is rising, warming the twisted wire. One eye on the entrance. One eye on his watch. Cold. She had felt so cold, just like the bars of the cells within. Al moves closer. Impatient. 5 pm will come too quickly. His car will be waiting for him. It will always be there, just like the memory of her.

Seed by Jess Duncan. Image by Gordon Parks.