Article Title

The Smiling Man


prison, riot, elevator

Document Type



You could no longer distinguish single words or even voices. Out in the dining hall the inmates' shouting broke in waves against the wall, reverberating from the farther wall. The floor thrummed like a guitar string. Most of the cooks were backing away from the service doors. They would take a step, glance back, take another step, ready to run for the escape exit. Only three of the cooks remained with Fletcher, who lay on his back with a bloody nose, clawing the wall with one hand, unconscious.