by Robert Gryfft
"Hello," he said cheerfully (through the bars).
"Hello." I nodded.
"Thirtieth day?" He eyed the ceiling of my room (through the bars).
"Yes," I said.
"This room is going to kill you, one day, you know," he said. He sat, smiling and nodding knowingly.
"I know." My voice trembled.
The ceiling clicked another inch downward.