Writer’s Workout:

Tammy’s breath hung in the chill of the visitor’s area. A fifteen-year veteran of bitter coffee and plastic chairs, she’d arrived early, positioning herself at a coveted table on the far wall, away from the drafty door. She observed reunions as she waited for Ethan to be escorted from his cell. A dozen small dramas unfolded under the watch of an underpaid guard tasked with keeping the room in control. A young mother wrangled a little boy desperate to launch himself at his one-hour-a-week daddy. An elderly man, his sagging shoulders carrying the weight of the room, nodded at a grey-haired inmate before sliding into an empty chair.