There was always only going to be one way out. The worst way.
One might have thought, respectfully, but no one here had any respect for me. Hatred, maybe?
We were in the corridor now. It had the only window in the facility that offered a glimpse of the outside. The outside beyond the walls.
I paused. I could see the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge spanning San Francisco Bay, disappearing into the mist that hid Point Richmond.
Then came the nudge in my back, encouraging me towards the room. The chamber. Yes, hatred.
I was checking out today, but I wouldn't know anything about leaving.
Word count: 98
Contest entry for "Musical Drabble" , October 2018.