You DO NOT choose your own nickname. Often times, you wish you could. I know I do. I wonder what exactly I could of done differently...as it turns out, it was obvious...I just didn’t know it at the time

“A-loy-sus Zinni, where are you from son?”

Shoes with a heel…

“Hey, I’m speaking to you”

Why are you wearing an orange dress?

“Excuse me! Son, please tell me what your name is and where you are from.”

Ma’am, I apologize. I wish I could... I know you don’t want to be here either... but while we are, let us make the most of it. Whaddya say? 

Aloysius smiles and looks at the bathroom then back to the woman 

“Guard! Please make sure there are plenty for this one...AND TRY to get him to speak, we need to confirm who he is.”

Billy club. Cuffs. Loose belt. Scuffed shoes. 

Guard shoves Aloysius into a cell

“Back up and put your hands through”

Guard tightens the cuffs

Soft hands. Strong grip. Breathing through his mouth

“Listen up pal. You want this to go well? I’m sure you do. And don’t play dumb with me. I know who you are. Just make a call and make sure it is all there.”

Eye twitch. Leaning to one side. Sweat.

“So do you want to make that call now or would you rather stay here with us?”

Guard leans over and motions towards the cell...two other guards arrive

No uniforms. Rolled up sleeves. Smokes.  Who should we call? 

All three men enter the cell and begin to beat Aloysious

Warm. Orange. Mine

TO BE CONTINUED