They were unlikely companions, in fact they were not even friends. He was in charge of watching over her and she resented him for his position. They were locked up together in a tiny one-room flat high above the city streets where only the occasional sound of a honking horn or the smell of the restaurants below reach them.
"When do you think my father will let me leave this place and get back to my life?" Julia asked him.
"That's a silly question," Ken replied.
"Not really given my position, held here with barely the sound of the neighbors radio and no news of the outside, and you are never forthcoming with any grand information."
She got up from the couch where she had been lounging absently playing with her hair, crossing the short distance to the table where Ken was pouring over a stack of papers. Plopping in the empty chair at the table, she stares at him until her gaze broke his concentration.
"What would you have me do?" Ken asks, lifting his eyes hoping not to meet hers.
...
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