BLOCK F, CELL 3, BOTTOM BUNK
--originally written with a pencil that I stole from a girl in my Block and guarded with diligence.
EXCERPTS FROM PAGES 4 & 5 OF 24
...I always feel like the anomaly here. I have all my teeth and a college degree but then I look again and my teeth are nicotine-stained, too, and we've all got tatoos that our friends gave us with bare needles and alcoholic gusto. We've probably all been pregnant and not quite sure who the father was and all any of us want right now is a cigarette.
I feel like an alien because I have proper grammer and connoisseuristic tendencies but I also feel that all we need are some Marlboros and Pepsi or some rum and all-night card games on the outside, and I could connect with these people.
EXCERPTS FROM PAGES 9 & 10 OF 24
"Do you know how to pluck eyebrows with string?" -Jessica to Tae (a serious question)
We were eating supper Monday night when a woman from cell 1 asked everyone if she could have the plastic-coated paper lids from our single-serving butter tubs.
"What do you use them for?" someone asked.
"I floss my teeth with them," she replied with the air of a woman who was sentenced long-term and had carried a baby to term in jail then was sent right back to finish her sentence after the delivery. She had this air because it was true.
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