Thread:Vox and the Vendetta/@comment-28578706-20180801145912/@comment-34052734-20180801162113

Clark lay down on the metal bench, staring up at the ceiling. “Reno, you ever think we’re going to make it out of here?”

“I don’t know, man. I hope so. I don’t want to stay another ten years in this place,” his friend answered. “Fifteen fucking years, Clark. Fifteen fucking years!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I’ve got eight left on my sentence. As soon as I get out of here, I’m gonna bail you out,” Clark proposed.

“That’d be nice,” Reno began, “If you can make two-hundred thousand in the seven years of freedom you have. Hell, if you even remember me. C’mon man, it’s over for me. They won’t even hire me when I’m out!”

Clark huffed. “You never know...You never know.”