C174 In The Confinement

A chorus of shaking heads and muttered denials followed, but then one man raised his hand hesitantly.

“I had a drunk uncle named Lysander,” he offered, his voice laced with mockery. “He died falling in horse shit.”

The absurdity of the statement hung in the air for a moment before it cracked like thunder, sending a ripple of laughter through the prisoners. Even Marina