![]() ![]() “Dunno who it is, Blondie,” the guard said. My arrest held a mirror up to their flaws and now they were as finished with me as I was with them. Then he cried those sloppy drunk tears that always embarrassed me. My father came once after I’d been here a couple of weeks, but he was already wasted, although it wasn’t yet noon, and all he did was yell. ![]() I’d given up expecting one of my parents to show up, and that was fine with me. “Who’s here?” I asked the guard walking by my side. I was facing my second summer inside these cinder-block walls and tried not to think about it. It was on its way for those outside, anyway. Wouldn’t know it was June outside, that things were blooming and summer was on its way. You wouldn’t know what season it was from this hallway. ![]() Cinder-block walls, a linoleum floor that squeaked beneath my prison-issue shoes. This hallway always felt cold to me, no matter the time of year. North Carolina Correctional Facility for Women Raleigh, North Carolina ![]()
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