My section does not have dayroom today, so I am in the cell until time to start work. I am a porter in this housing unit. Due to my age (almost 70) I only do light duty, able wiper. I also spend a lot of time running for the men stuck in their cells. A note here, a shot of coffee here. Mainly running from one cell to another on these missions of mercy. If you are in a cell and running out of toilet paper, my mission is a real life save for the man in need…..
For the past month and a half I have been enjoying having a cell to myself. Some might call this solitary confinement. I see it as having a writer’s dream. I am in a room with a bullet prof steel door. A bunk, desk, storage shelf, and toilet and sink make up the furnishings. I have a typewriter. I have a TV set, but that is more of a distraction.
My dream for years has been to write something worth while…..There is a catch 22 to my dream. It is almost impossible to send out any sizable writing to an agent or publisher. And the copy machines are off limits for anything other than legal work. Most of what I have written has not been print worthy anyway. So my writing stays in the cell, probably never to be seen by eyes other than my own. Even the guards are not likely to read my work unless I try to mail it out.