Bound Of Blood (Part one) Unedited

One day I will move away from these narrow little themes but in the mean time this is the second short story I am attempting.
I am using a different writing style this time the characters are less idealised so the writing is les poetic than the style I used in Vanilla.
This is also a very short draft that will be extended later so if it seems the story line jumps too much please be reminded that this is first draft.

For the first time in his life Sean Jason Rees felt lonely. It was not the kind of lonely he had become accustom to in his long years of solitary travel nor the kind of lonely that crawled into bed with you when the moon is split into pieces by the bars on your window.
No the loneliness that Sean felt today was a much heavier burden even than the chains and shackles that clattered about his feet as he marched in stunted steps along the grey tiles.
It was a loneliness reserved only for those who had known the agony and tenderness of love and as Sean felt the drag of gravity in his shoulders and the cutting stabs of fear and anticipation in his gut Sean feared that it was the loneliness that would last to that bitter end.
He tried to ignore the inhabitants of the cells on his way; they all had that look in their eyes, even those who had not yet become accustomed to their bonds. Like wild animals they paced the floors in their cells swearing revenge and resistance, and others beaten and broken sunken eyes and trodden spirited, cogs of the system.
But today as he clattered passed their bars he could feel them stare with that bitter foreboding penitence.
“Cleanly shaven I see… New fancy haircut I see, that aint gonna do ya no good out there pumpkin!” came the malicious cackle from the cell at the corner of the corridor.
The cell had been christened Toadsburry hall in honor of the grotesque scurvy in mate who claimed it. His name was Henry Killen and the unsightly disease that crusted his skin in welts and warts was how Africa had punished him for his crimes. It had been the trafficking of young tribal beauties to supply whore houses across the world that had won Henry his latest stint in cell block C. but it was the warts that had made this latest incrassation easy in comparison. Killen had suffered no nightly intrusions from “the lipsticks” and other prisoners treated him with the loaded respect one might afford a leaper.
Sean was sickened by the gangly man with his yellow teeth and poky face so he kept his eye fixed on the back of the warden that lead him through the prison like a dog on a leash.
They passed through gates unlocking and locking each as they passed them. They moved in a series of wining hinges and metallic banging.
Passing a priest Sean had refused to see or speak to since his introduction to the population, and now as Sean was lead passed the robed figure he was sure he could see regret in the mans face.
Another short way before they came to a big green steel door.
Sean felt his heart skip a beat as the wardens key found its place in the lock and turned with a loud click.
The interior of the room was starkly lit and sparsely furnished but he’s attention was immediately drawn to the glass wall on his left hand side.
She was there her eyes seemed emotionless….


She was careful not to wake him when she moved her hand from his little shoulder to turn the page. The small rasping sound of his breathing didn’t change as he shifted sleepily on her lap until he’s face was turned up towards her. He wrinkled his nose and she found herself smiling at the Angelic face of her sleeping son.
She had witnessed this sleepy oddity so many times in his childhood and yet it still pulled at her heart strings and made her want to hug him tight to her chest.
The tic tic tic noise from the wall clock filtered into her awareness suddenly and she checked the time almost in habit.
It was late, far past Christian’s bed time and she reprimanded herself for letting him have his way.
“He’s the boss” she thought too herself “and he knows it”
She lifted him gently into her arms and felt him come to slightly as she stood up from the lumpy sofa.
“But mommy I’m not even sleepy” came the groggy little voice close to her ear, and she smiled at how trained the response was.
Not bothering to respond as he had slipped back to sleep just as the words left his mouth she carried him along the hall to the bedroom next to hers to lay him down under the covers of the car shaped bed he had wanted so badly.
She kissed him on the forehead careful not to disturb him and start the argument for a place in her bed.
“I love you mommy” came the groggy little voice again as she moved for the door.

Everybody had said she was crazy when Naomi Silverstone announced that she was pregnant. At 32 she was one of the most sought after marketing executive in the country and there wasn’t a firm or product that wouldn’t jump at the chance to work with Naomi.
She was at the height of her career and yet her personal life had been less than ideal up until now.
A string of misshaped relationships had turned Naomi into a pessimist when it came to love and matters of the heart; and realizing she was not getting any younger Naomi made a visit to a fertility clinic where she chose an anonymous sperm donor and became pregnant by artificial insemination.
She was determined to be a mother and her lack of male companionship would not deter her from her goal.
Her pregnancy was without event and drama, as Naomi settled into a management position with a smaller firm that would afford her normal office hours, a day care facility and a shorter commute from the suburban home she had purchased, refusing to raise her child in the top floor apartment of the smoggy and uncaring city.
He had been born in January by caesarian section, Naomi would have none of the idealized drama that accompanied a natural birth and insisted that only her mother should be present when Christian was born.
Ingrid was possibly the only person who understood her head strong daughter and divined that Naomi’s insistence on privacy and simplicity had much to do with the perceptions outsiders may draw from her unwed status.
Independent and self assured as she was she was under no illusions as to the nature of human beings and would risk no scar on her dazzling professional reputation.
It was until Christian entered her life with little grace and was deposited bawling and wet into Naomi’s arms that everybody in the room realized that Naomi had finally found a man who could make her swoon.