A 3 minute slice of time in prison |
7.06am. The clanging and crashing of metal on metal, as locks are unlocked, bolts are drawn back and doors are opened, wakes me up to a cold reality. No more the pleasant dreams of fantasy, only the harsh truth. It is time to start a new day. A new day on the inside. A new day on the inside of prison. I get out of bed fast, because now I'm in a race against other inmates. Why am I in a race? I'm in a race because if I am not fast enough, I get no fruit or jam for the day. I pull on my tracksuit bottoms and jacket. Now I'm ready, ready for the race. The door opens and I'm off. I don't run, because if I run, I lose face and face is important. I just walk very fast. I see other inmates converging on the fruit. I get to the fruit and grab six pieces. Today it is apples, yesterday it was pears but today it is apples. I put two pieces each in my my jacket pockets and the other two go into my tracksuit pants. Now I go for the jams, it is apricot. There are only four packets left, I take them all. The inmate behind me says nothing, he realises that today he has lost the race. Tomorrow he will not be so slow. I relax now, the race is over, for me anyway. I walk back to the cell slowly saying good morning to the other people around me. I have the time now. I watch with a knowing smile, the new inmates arrive for the fruit and jam. They start swearing profusely, when they find that there is nothing left, either fruit or jam. I feel no pity for them, even though I was once in their situation, they must learn to survive as I did. If they don't survive then they are weak and in prison the weak are victims. Prey for the taking. I walk back into the cell and empty my pockets. I place the fruit and jam into my cupboard, behind my clothes. Why do I do this? I do this because I trust no-one. It easier to remove the temptation of "borrowing" my fruit and jam by hiding it. The clanging and crashing starts once more, as doors are closed, the bolts drawn forward and the locks are relocked. Slowly I remove my jacket and tracksuit bottoms and get back into bed. I don't eat breakfast. The fruit and jam, which I have just raced to get, is more valuable as a commodity, than as a food source. In a couple of hours, I will sell it to the new inmates for something. I don't what they will pay, but it will be more than the price I paid. Slowly the noise fades, as I fall back into the dreamworlds of fantasy. 7.09am. |