The wake up alarm pierced through his dream. He woke up smiling. He didn’t remember much of his dream but he was sure it was a happy dream. And he almost already knew that his day was fucked. But what he didn’t know then was that this was his last day.
He smoke his first cigarette of the day in the toilet and took his shower. He checked the mirror and thought twice about shaving and then decided against it. He went back to his seat and waited for the warden to call for breakfast. That was when the bomb blasted.
He had never thought of escaping, even once. The jail-life was part of his resignation to the fate. But when one finds the whole jail in chaos and a huge hole in one’s cell’s wall, the only thing one cannot think is about not running away.
There is some reason why the jail dress is in stripes of black and white - and that is because it makes it terribly conspicuous. And that might also be the reason why zebras are supposed to have a very high reproducing rate - so they say!
He had never been to a college in his sane life. But that was where he went right away. He went there and exchanged his jail uniform for a normal looking t-shirt. (Whoa dude! Real jail dress! Cool! O it’s ok, you can keep the cigarette pack.)
He then went to his old boss’s place. He was surprised, but was happy to have him back. (Half pay jobs; desperate jail bird.) He was told to take a day’s rest and come back the next day.
With the money he got from the boss, he went to his regular bar to down a couple of drinks and get a girl perhaps.
The alarm bell rang and he woke up. He didn’t remember much of his dream but he was sure it was a happy dream. And he almost already knew that his day was fucked.