Jail Coach
Page 24
I realized there wasn’t going to be a clean getaway from this conversation. No choice but to engage.
“You realize that what you’re saying is that everyone is in prison.”
“I suppose so. We make our own prisons. Most of us, anyway. I made my own prison. I forged the bars and built the walls all by myself. But it turned out that I had a good jail coach.”
She kissed me. Cute little peck on my right eyelid. Guess where this was going.
The next morning, as I got up to make coffee, she planted her left elbow on her pillows and propped herself up.
“Before you go to the kitchen, I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“What’s the over/under on Thompson’s marriage to Trowbridge?”
“Eighteen months.”
“What did you take?”
“Over. I’m an optimist.”
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