Transcription
http://betweenthebars.org/blogs/520
The Heat of the Day
The inmates that surround me lie listlessly on their assigned bunks. Our metal racks are covered with thin, musty mattresses. The atmosphere pulses with an arid heat. A fan stirs the stagnant air into a worn, desert-type breeze; the drone of its blades lull my senses. The noise of the men around me laboring for each shallow breath punctuates their struggle to survive the sweltering temperatures. Glistening, acrid smelling sweat steams from my pours; it stings my eyes and tastes salty on my lips. A heavy slamming door reverberates like a shot as it stirs me from my stupor. The flies torment me as if daring me to swat them. I must endure this oppressive furnace until it is transformed when the cool of evening returns.
By: Patrick Rathsack T-45624
CIM A3-SH-106up
PO BOX 368
Chino, CA 91708-0368
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