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Source:the guardian

It was so quiet. Dim lights were blinking and creeks of the door can be heard from the streets. There was still a patch of night which hasn’t been covered by the sun, most of it. Chairs were thrown upside down on one corners. One constable was sleeping with his head bent on the side. A drunk man started murmuring something with his hands in the front as he was lying on the floor. His face was covered in dried blood. His legs were shaking as he tried to get up. But he couldn’t.
“I didn’t do..” he said in fainted voice.
He tried to hold up to the bars of the cell. Handcuffs on his hands clanged with the bar. It made a sound. Enough to shuffle the unsoundness. The constable woke up shaking his head and barely opening his eyes.
“ prick” the constable roared violently.
He tried again. This time he was able to get on his knees. He pulled everything in his throat to make it count and shouted.
“For god sake leave me...i didn’t do it” he cried and grabbed the bars tightly.
The constable woke up with anger. He pushed his chair back, cursing and walking towards the cell. He picked up his baton and clunked the cell. The bars made the vibrating sound, not in the pain. The man hadn’t made a sound because of the pain. Some of the baton caught his fingers.
“Haven’t I told you to shut up… just keep quiet…every criminal says that he didn’t do it...just don’t ruin my sleep.”  The constable blabbered.
The man in the cell has lost his power to say anything. He was exhausted. His body as well as his soul. What he didn’t do was the stealing. What he did do was to give back the purse to the lady.
PS: The lady was at the party. She forgot her purse at the bar. The waiter was going to return the purse when she came back and snatched it out of his hands. She realised that she had a ring in her purse which is missing. She reported it that it was stolen. And no questions asked, the poor man is the criminal. He always is. She did find the ring at her home but too shy to apologize.

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