"It's all about killing time, see?" said Trey, slowly ladling another spoonful of food into his mouth. "You don't do anything fast unless you have to."
Kyle tried not to show his distaste as he ate his own cafeteria breakfast.
Was it the finest cuisine? Of course not. Was it at least hot and tasty? …Not really, no.
Was it edible? Jury was still out.
Was it actively poisonous? Looking around, nobody seemed to be in the process of dying.
It had to be food of some sort. Surely the prison wasn't allowed to feed the inmates leather and tiling grout.
His fellow cellmates had stayed in bed until morning roll call. Kyle had laid awake, stared at the ceiling and failed at not thinking about Andrea. After the guards had gone round and checked everyone was where they were supposed to be, Trey had hustled them to the cafeteria for breakfast.
