Hey Joe, he mused, this isn’t how I expected it to be. How had it come to this? The view of genteel suburbia, children’s parks, and well tended gardens, the sweet, clean-scrubbed carers who never failed to look in on him every half-hour and who were responsive to his every legal need.
Fed through a tube; no burgers.
He had the right to be angry; he had paid his dues. The scars and tattoos that littered his body told the story. Three wives. Served time.
All day music: Doris Day, Leonard Cohen, late Presley.
Where was Hendrix when you needed him?
For Rochelle Wisoff-fields’ Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge