Lovisas skrivhörna
lördag 8 februari 2020
Writing prompt 39
"I hope they hount you while you rot in here. I hope you never forget any one of their faces."
He got up on noticeably unsteady legs, came forward to the bars, fiercely meeting my eyes.
"So everything is my fault? How convenient... You don't feel the tiniest bit guilty?"
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