they can't get out

They Can't Get Out

They Can't Get Out

As I got closer, I noticed he looked pretty rough. Greasy hair, dirty sweat-stained shirt, muddy work boots.  His face was gaunt and ashen.  His eyes were sunken but wild, like he hadn’t slept in days.  

“What can’t get out?”

He said nothing, just put down the hose, walked up to his door and held it open.