Ficly

Free at Last

The sudden rush of fresh air filled Scott’s nostrils. The small tiny hairs of his nasal cavity had not touched fresh air in over 3 years, at least free air. Scott Wilde walked down the fenced walkway to the main gate of what will be his former home. Only if he can stay out of trouble, according to his parole officer.

The guards talked into their walkie talkies telling the men at the gate controls to open the C Gate for Scott to walk out. Scott gave a little smile. He always thought that any adult with a walkie talkie was pretending they were 6 years old and playing with their toys.

“What are you smiling at Wilde?” One of the guards asked.

“Nothing,” Scott said still smiling.

The guard shrugged it off as the 5 foot thick metal door opened. “Stay out of trouble Scott,” the guard said as he ushered Scott through the gate.

“You know me,” Scott said.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the guard mumbled.

As soon as Scott walked clear of the gate, the door began to close behind him.

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