Happy MLK day. As it is a bit of a holiday, I will keep this short and sweet and let everyone get on with their day off. I always liked MLK Day, not just because of what it stands for, but because it is also the unofficial end to the holiday season. From Halloween on holidays crop up and while we will have a minor celebration for Valentine’s day, there are no real holidays until Easter. we close the season with MLK. Which isn’t a bad thing when you think about it. So on with the prompt.
I find this interesting. I also suspect a prison break is imminent.
Monday, January 16th: Dinner was served at exactly six o’clock.
Dinner was served at exactly six o’clock. He knew he had to be in place by the time the six o’clock bell rang ant the line started moving forward. Gareth knew that while they would continue serving everyone until all those in line had received a portion, they would not allow anyone into the line if they arrived past the ringing of the sixth bell.
He raced through the corridor and slid into line, with a minute to spare. As he took his place he tried to look like he hadn’t sprinted the length of the castle to get there. He tried to calm his breath and still his breathing. The sweat at his hairline began to cool. The guards looked at him, studying his appearance dispassionately. Their eyes and faces revealed nothing of their thoughts. Gareth wondered if they were chosen to work here simply because they naturally possessed faces of stone or if, over time, the granite cliffs surrounding this castle changed them, modeled them in its own fiercely forbidding image.
Regardless, Gareth was pleased when their attention turned to those who arrived, panting behind them. He didn’t turn to look at those behind him. He didn’t look at anyone really. No one here paid any more attention to anyone else than was required for day to day living. It was a survival method Gareth picked up early on. The other people here were merely mobile objects he had to avoid colliding with if he wanted to survive. Talking was viewed as collusion by the guards and collusion was not allowed. No one spoke and no one looked. Punishments were severe. They may all be locked up inside the castle, but they were each in their own solitary jail. With the Guards attention focused on those who came after him, he looked around. As always he wondered about this castle. It was clear it was not built as a prison but once served other functions. From its placement, Gareth thought it might have started out as a defensive post. However at one time someone thought well enough to expand and add fanciful turrets and spaces for gardens. The gardens were still in use and there were prison details to man them. Most of their food came from the gardens and the small fields just outside the perimeters of the castle walls. Gareth knew he would never be trusted enough to work in the crews that were taken out to the fields. He was a blue level criminal and could never be allowed outside the castle grounds.
There was an amusement in this, which he never shared with anyone, never allowed to even twitch his lips into anything that would cause his expression to look like it even knew the definition of amusement. Amusement here denoted a plot. Plots were not tolerated any more than collusion.
While most of those designated blue were here for violent crimes and were the dangerous the prison held. His blue designation was simply due to his birth. His crime was being born with the wrong parentage. He was dangerous for existing.
Ten til Midnight 