Coddiwomple

by S.E. Harmon

“Well?” he prodded. “What about some lunch? Am I allowed to eat, warden?” “You’re allowed to eat, Prisoner 666. I’m just going over your list of approved foods in my mind. If I remember correctly, you need something low-fat, low-sodium, and low-sugar. Nothing spicy, either. And no citrus because of one of one of your new meds.” I blew out a breath. “So…air. You like air?” He snorted. “I put a steak in the fridge to defrost before I went in.” “Yeah, that goes on the no-fly list for now,” I said, shooting him a sidelong look. “And please stop making it sound like you just checked yourself into the hospital for a quick tune-up.” “Might as well have.” “Really?” It was my turn to snort. “Because the way Cam tells it, you fell in the grocery store, right down the deodorant aisle.” “Which is why I still need sundries,” he bellowed, “like I told you.” “Calm down, calm down,” I huffed. “Jesus, you’ll get your pressure up.” Whose bright idea was this anyway? I was many things, but patient and nurturing didn’t even crack the top hundred list of my best traits. “Do you think you could drive a little faster?” He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. “You’d think you were driving Miss Daisy.” Refresh my drink, in the movie, did they drive Miss Daisy off a cliff or no?