7:30 A.M. My cellmate and I exit the 6x9 cell where we live. We line-up with other inmates against a cold brick wall. Three guards stare at us with imperial grins. While waiting for stragglers, the sergeant attempts small talk with a few inmates, but we know better. The guards are not our friends. His words fall on deaf ears.
Flaunting his superiority, the sarge orders his new recruit to count us. As the rookie counts, he fleetingly makes eye contact with us, but he is nervous, and like the dogs they treat us like, we smell fear.
To welcome him to this underworld, many men flash him intimidating mugs. Others, utter profanities, snort and fart. This superficial tradition gets old fast. Although I understand the rivalry, I cannot justify these tactics of self-demoralization. Fortunately for me, I’ve mastered the art of zoning the cacophony out.
Drifting off, I think about freedom. My release. And technology. I’ve been incarcerated nearly ten years and since then cellphones have become hybrid mutations resembling gadgets once used in Star Wars films. And even more mind boggling is the “Texting Revolution,” that has spread across the globe. I’m freakin out here!
How will I create relationships with people in such a cyber-world? I’m ignorant. I don’t even know how to “text,” let alone decipher the bizarre cryptograms and hieroglyphic symbols used to communicate today. #Cryptoglyphs- LMAO!
Suddenly a fetid odor fills my nasal cavity. “What the ???” I mumble, looking around for the source as the rookie walks by.
Looking left, I notice my cellmate finishing a yawn. He notices the disgusted look on my face and asks, “What?” To make a joke of the moment, I fan his hot dragon breath back at him, but he is not in the mood, and doesn’t share my humor. Awkward!
Thankfully, after several long minutes, the sarge, puffing out his chest, yells – CLEAR, and we can return to the cells. All I can think is, “I’m so ready to go home.”
Hello, I’m Noah, and I’m “different.” But that’s okay, right? I’m 32 years old, 6’2” tall, 200 lbs. I’d love to laugh with you as we share stories and learn about each other, Three things I promise is, I’m a dork, I’m not perfect, but I have a big heart. If this sparks your interest WRITE ME!!! I’m lonely, and I need support.