Photo prompt © CEayr
Surprisingly they were all there; wife, two boys and their wives. He wasn’t sure if they would all come.
But their eyes were as bleak and grim as the prison cell he had just left.
‘They don’t believe me. And why should they? Am I not a convict who spent ten years in the prison?’
He had desperately wished that at least his wife would believe him. She had sometimes said that the judge had been unjust. But he thought her protestations were weak.
He wanted to ask her if she truly believed that he was innocent. But he didn’t.
He felt he was only moving from one prison to another.
A post for Friday Fictioneers
Word count 111