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Other essays on this theme
Essay: "The View from My Cell"by Kenneth Warwick Whenever I see a plane streaking across the sky overhead I’m thinking, “I wish that was me going somewhere… anywhere but here.” It reminds me of the lyrics in a Police song that goes “… that’s my soul up there…”
The Mark W. Stiles Unit is not “isolated” per se. It lies of the outskirts of Beaumont and the view out the window is of freeways, traffic, and some industrial facilities. There is some vestige of humanity, unlike the unit I was previously assigned to. The Lynaugh Unit sits 12 miles west of Fort Stockton on the edge of the Sonora Desert, completely isolated from the cities and influences of humanity. The view from my window there was as barren and empty as a soul with no hope, bleak and lonely. Many times gazing through the window, my soul would travel beyond the confines of the desert to a time past, to atone for my sins in self-reflection. Or, I would project forward to an uncertain future, wishful and full of hope. |