PRISONER EXPRESS

One late night as I lay on my bunk reading my nose hairs curled at a stench on the night air. I rushed to close the window and saw, much to my surprise, that the culprit was worth the scent. She was a big mama skunk, black and fluffy with twin white stripes, and she strutted in her majestic grandeur with her two tiny kits gamboling along in her wake catching bugs when they were not pouncing on each other. Instead of closing the window I opened it further to get a better view and spent a wonderful hour smiling despite the stink.

Once in lock-up for disciplinary violations they had taken all of my reading materials. Bored to despair I lay looking out the window at a little used, lighted sidewalk. The lights drew moths, food for toads, and I delighted in watching their nightly feasting. My next trip to lock-up found me at the window looking for the toads and they were gone. From dozens to none in a matter of a year.

At another time I watched a hawk land on a roof with a fresh caught sparrow. The bloody business of his supper kept him busy and let me and others enjoy an entertaining nature show. A live performance. It was much more interesting than the tiny cage I lived in.

Today my view is from a window in administrative segregation that looks out on an alley between cell blocks. Nothing to see worth the effort. Yet, sometimes I’m drawn to my window in hope of a moment’s respite acted out in some mini-drama of nature in the sliver of sky available to my gaze.