Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The next three paragraphs...

...from My Road Home: 

I need to eat more! It's taking some time getting comfortable with this food, but of course I have no choice, I had better learn to like it. I miss my sons terribly; they are all I think about. Falling asleep has been difficult, there are 49 other men in this dorm and it seems everyone of them snores loudly. 

This morning was the first time since my sentencing that I was able to see daylight. I was allowed a grand total of 1 hour recreation. As it turns out, only ten other fellow inmates line up at the door at the assigned time,  9:00 a.m. I think to myself, how could these other dudes not want to get out for some fresh air, to escape this filthy, smelly dorm for just an hour? 

Guards escort us outside to a high school type of field, with a track, weight lifting area, and basket ball court, all surrounded by barbed wire of course. I soon notice particular areas being claimed by the inmates. Like the weightlifting area, a bunch of bad looking dudes hanging out there. All I want to do is run on the track, and breath the fresh air. I have no interest in anything else. Rikers, or "The Island" as the prison veterans refer to it as, is right next door to LaGuardia airport, where it seems a plane flies overhead every 60 seconds. They appear so close, I can almost make out the tread of the tires as they take off and land. All I can think about is the freedom I no longer have, the freedom to be on one of those planes, and fly somewhere. As I walk the track I daydream about being in the sky again. The sun is shinning and the hour goes by way too quickly. The guards blast the siren, it's time to line up and return to the cell.

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