The judge said my wickedness was due to me being starved of love as a child.
I wonder what he meant – ‘starved of love’?
The phrase conjured up strange images in my head. Children being force-fed dollops of specially prepared meals of love. Did this involve plates of cuddles and kisses for breakfast, with a cup of kind words of encouragement for a mid-morning snack?
Or maybe a table laden with tender hand holding for lunch and lots of smiles for tea?
As I’m taken down I have my doubts that love is on the prison menu.
Written by Mike Jackson
Mike Jackson lives in the UK and enjoys writing short tales, especially Drabbles. Some of his offerings can be found on his blog ‘Stories In Your Pocket’