2nd draft of mafia thriller (462 words)

          A single recessed light bulb flickers on every morning around the same time. The light barely reaches the corners of his six by nine cell.  Already washed and ready, Joe Fazzini sits on the end of his metal bunk waiting for the doors to open. Today will be his last full day of imprisonment. Four years ago tomorrow Joe exited the real world as ranking capo of the Marcuccio crime family of South Philadelphia. A clean-cut, professional, one would never know Joe is mobbed up. He has the mafia swagger to his walk and wears expensive clothing, but to outsiders it seems he doesn't have a crooked bone in his body. He was Joe, and around the Italian Market in South Philly, he’s well liked.

          Now in his late twenties Joe has never been close to having a serious relationship. He’s had girlfriends come and go but none that he cared for either way. He's dedicated to the family that raised him, the Marcuccio family and one person within that family in particular. Back when Joe was just eleven years old he left a broken home and wound up on the streets for a short time. He’s never been popular; always keeping to himself so none of the younger gangs wanted him as a member.

          On the streets, Joe defended himself with great ferocity. One afternoon Joe was looking to the local Italian Market shops for work when he spotted his mother getting harassed by some local thugs in their teens. They're trying to make names for themselves as small time-hoods and often picked on helpless people. They wear the same hats as a trademark, and rarely walk in groups fewer than three. He had the advantage of surprise and approached them unnoticed sweeping his broom under the feet of the first thug sending him crashing to the ground. Sizing the other two up as they turned around hearing the commotion behind them Joe stuck the broom handle into the mid section of the first boy and slapped the other in the face momentarily dazing him. He briefly looked to his mother; she was o.k, although appearing startled. Turning back to the fight Joe caught a right cross to the cheek and ducked at a left. Seeing an opening he stumbled off the curb and into the street hoping the boys would follow. To Joe’s surprise they too decided to run dodging the onlookers as they tried to shake off the unwanted attack. Back on his feet Joe bent over to pick up the spilled groceries bags. His mother still dazed sat on the curb catching her breath. His heart pumping he considered going after the boys to finish them off. He thought against it opting to sit next to his mother.