They sat in a way so that they were niether close nor far away from one another. This particular distance was common, in his experience.
“How are you today, my son?”
“I’m alright, you know.”
While he would try to look at this man that he had come to visit in the eye, it was hard at times and both he and the man often looked at the wall, the floor, the tiny table, rather than look at each other.
“Could you eat?”
“I tried, but you know.”
“I know.”
This type of converstaion was also typical, in his experience. Most people might think that there would be more pleading, barganing, a sense of unfairness, or a desperate plea for comfort. This was not the case, in his experience.
Some, though by no means all, would like to play a game of some kind or talk about a book they were reading or they might tell jokes or funny stories from their childhoods. Just to pass the time.
This man just sat and that was his wish and his right. He held his head not quite down but not quite upright either. His hands fidgeted and his feet shuffled.
“Will you be there?”
“If you want me to be, yes. I will.”
“I do.”
“I will be there, my son.”
An alarm buzzed and a door opened and then closed and an alarm buzzed again.
“Would you like me to administer your last rites?”
“You know I don’t believe in that shit.”
Another alarm buzzed and the cell door opened.
“It’s time,” the guard said.
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