Stripes

Stripes.

She averted her eyes when they brought him out to visit with her. She knew what she would see.

Stripes.

They hadn't given him the orange one, but rather the black and white one, covered with lines, dark, light, dark, light. Ugly.

She had the thought that maybe she was the only one who saw the world in color, knew that it wasn't just made up of the shades on his outfit. Black, white. Good guys, bad guys.

Stripes.

Her eyes found his feet and worked their way up, slowly taking in his uniform, the shiny jail number pinned to his shirt.

Stripes.

She looked away before reaching his face. She couldn't handle those pale brown eyes, scruffy beard, handsome face.Wasted.