It was the windows overlooking the street for years. A view to the shoppers going by. To those rushing to college or work. To the homeless looking for a dollar for coffee. To the dog walkers. To the lovers walking hand in hand. To the parents wheeling their babies in prams. To those coming home drunk from a night on the town. To those lost in the wilderness of a drug addiction …
It was the windows which Perry was situated behind. His mouth gagged. Arm chained to a pipe.
Why am I here? How long have I been here?
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