23 May 07
5:10 pm The prison is locked-down. The power has been off all day due to repair work. The temperature is in the eighties and the swamp coolers are off, so we’re lounging around our cells wearing next to nothing. Prisoners are restless because their TVs aren't working. Some are listening to Walkmans. Others are talking through their windows.
“I’m about to get butt-ass naked in this motherfucker.”
“Let’s see ya naked, boyyyy.”
“They sure as shit ain’t lettin’ us out – motherfuckers.”
"The motherfuckers are lyin’ to us, dawg. The electricity is on in the store.”
“Nah, dawg. My fan ain’t on.”
“The motherfuckin’ po-lice said theyz changin’ a generator.”
“That don’t take all motherfuckin’ day, dawg.”
“Whatchu doin’, dawg?”
“Readin’ all motherfuckin’ day, when I should be writin’ letters.”
“I am sooo very gay,” Black Nine said.
“Suck my cock.”
“He needs a dick su-cker…a dick su-cker…”
Now they’re all singing, “…a dick su-cker…a dick su-cker…a dick su-cker…”
The only other sounds are birds chirping. Pigeons cooing. The wind spitting dust at my window. And a staccato of metallic coughs from a walkie-talkie heading this way.
With the kitchen being closed, breakfast was a cheese sandwich, and so was lunch. For dinner I’m expecting a cheese sandwich. Cheese-sandwich days like these make me dream of being home, making up for all of the curries I’ve missed over the years.
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Copyright © 2006-2007 Shaun P. Attwood