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Kevin had been living in his cell for longer than he cared to remember. Life had taken on a routine of the grimmest proportions. At around 8am his cell was flooded with light and a warden would check to ensure he had not passed away during the night. Denied all but the barest of furnishings, he was left alone to contemplate his fate for the vast majority of the time. His solitary confinement was usually punctuated by several short visits a day; mainly from the wardens and associates but occasionally from goggle-eyed strangers whom had come to view his torment for their own perverse gratification. Humiliating though these visits proved, they were eagerly awaited for their alleviation of Kevin’s tedium. So eager was he to prolong these distractions from his pain, he had devised ways of keeping his visitors entertained for longer periods, often engaging in a series of acrobatic feats as well as telling them what they most wanted to hear when they engaged him in conversation. Some days he was allowed into the exercise area, but such occasions were too short and infrequent, whetting his appetite for real physical activity far more than satiating it. Besides that, the exercise area was too small and restrictive to really fulfil its role, and his being allowed there was designed more to enable the wardens to slop out his cell than be an act of goodwill. Each night his cell would be darkened to almost pitch black for an indeterminate length of time, and dreams would come like opium to free him from his living nightmare. Kevin could never deny his guilt, could never claim himself innocent of his crime, for the reasons for his punishment were written all over him. What he could deny was that he was to blame. After all, was it really Kevin’s fault that he was born a parrot? BACK |