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#fiction #fictionalcharacters

She bent to pull the stubborn weed out of the cabbage patch. And looked up at the azure sky.
She hoped she’d get some time to take a walk today. It was finally good weather, after so many days of gloomy overcast skies.
Muted sounds filtered through the walls of the surrounding garden. She loved it here. Peaceful. Riotous colour from the carrots and spinach growing there. She liked tending them, feeling useful, renewed – a feeling that was as welcome as the sunshine.
She wondered what lunch would be like today. It was a relief to not have to cook. Her remaining fingers couldn’t manage the pots and pans.
“Hey! It’s time for you to go back to your cell,” a voice called.
She turned. And smiled at the prison warden. “Alright. Can I come out later for some sun?”
“We’ll see,” the warden said, eyeing her warily.

Retreating into her little cabin by the garden, the warden watched the prisoner go back in. And remarked to her deputy, “That one gives me the willies.”
The deputy looked up. “Really? Why? She’s like a lamb, especially if you take her out in the garden.”
The warden almost snarled said, “Do you not know what she did to her husband?”
The deputy looked at the warden. “Yes. I do. But you also know what the husband did to her. Every day. For the last eighteen years.”
The warden shook her head. “She must have begged for an end every day.”
The deputy gestured to the prison garden. “May be she begged for another beginning.”

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