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Whats for dinner?

Whats for dinner?

Obi was walking down the corridor when his friend Tang called him from his room.

“Oi Obi, wassup man? Didn’t see you for two days!”

“Ya know what happened”, Obi replied with a sour face. “That mad man JD went crazy on me when I was cleaning up the dining floor.”

“Yeah, well… you shouldn’t have talked back when he asked you to clean his room first, dude. He is one mean a**hole. Getting back to work tonight?”

“I guess… whachoo doing? writing another letter? Dude, get over it! She is not coming back!”

“Says you! I didn’t land up in here because I wanted to. She will realize it pretty soon!”

“Whatever… wanna join me for dinner? I can’t begin work until the floor’s closed, ya know!”

“Whats for dinner? I hope its not the same crap they put yesterday night”.

“I guess it is the same… well, pull yourself up. Either way it don’t matter. If we are gonna be here for the next year with JD as the head of kitchens in this jail, you might as well get used to it”.

Cell phone and a burial

Cell phone and a burial

Mike’s cell phone rang. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and cleaned his hands on the cloth held by his work belt.

It was his wife calling.

“How’s work today, Mike?”

“You know how it is everyday, dear. Is there any problem at home?”

“No, no… just wanted to inform you that our neighbor, old Steven, died just a couple of minutes ago.”


“Yeah… it’s sad. He was a good man. Listen, Mary wants you to be there for the burial.”

“I will be. Tell her that I will be over there to help once I am done with work here.”

“Ok. See you back home soon”.


Mike slipped the cell phone in to its pouch and went back to shoveling the mud over the coffin, which lay 6 feet under.