It should never have happened; if only he had controlled his rage. He should have walked away, but no. Starting that mindless attack resulted in five empty years, years which had promised so much, now wasted.
He longs to be free. To apologise, to tell the truth. To somehow right the wrong.
He yearns for the day when once again he can stroll in the sun, the sun which is now just a few shadow lines on a soiled cell floor. To wrap up warm on a crisp frosty morning and watch ducks skating on ice. To skim stones across a rolling sea. To play his favourite songs with the volume turned up so high the walls vibrate. To live.
Two years more, twenty-four godforsaken months.
One hundred and four pencil marks scratched on a prison wall, still to be crossed through.
My Year 8 students have just been exploring a story Ínmates'which involves a convict who spent prison time creating paintings on his cell walls. An eerie shaow and a lively story.
ReplyDeleteexcellent story to accompany the image!
ReplyDeleteGreat photo Keith. At least it is not as bad as the "Papillon" story.
ReplyDeleteThings can so easily turn wrong, poor choices, wrong friends ... sadly it happens.
ReplyDeleteDoing time is literally that - second by grinding second.. i can empathise (not a murderer) but held somewhere against my will..the only thing that keeps you sane is imagination..the thing that truly imprisons you is your thoughts and the what ifs..a fine story..
ReplyDeleteUgh. This hits a little too close to home, as we keep watching a family member go in and out of jail.
ReplyDelete"when once again he can stroll in the sun, the sun which is now just a few shadow lines on a soiled cell floor" ... To lose the kiss of the sun would be the worst possible thing. Well no, being separated from your children would be worse than that, of course.
Excellent story and photo, Keith!
ReplyDeleteexcellent.
ReplyDeleteI can hardly think of anything worse than being imprisoned. Well written!
ReplyDelete