L. A. Lancaster

This small piece is a little different from what I usually write. Hope you enjoy it.

‘You have an incoming communication’ his phone rasped for the third time in an hour. If only he could reach it, his fingers strained to grip the phone, but the bindings only let him move so far. The cloth cut into his wrists as he stretched his body over to the bed side table. The grotty mattress beneath him squeaked as he strained.

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