Jerry Ousley
Wednesday, February 21, 2024
Body
All was dark. Jim leaned back against the wall. He flinched slightly as the cold, damp concrete touched his flesh. A drop of water trickled down onto his shoulder and caused him to shiver. He paused momentarily, then slapped away a rat that had crawled up to nibble on his already tattered clothing. How much longer must he remain here? How much more of this could he take? He had existed in this cell for 120 days now. He knew this only because of a small pane of glass that stood behind a set of bars and allowed a few rays of daylight to enter his otherwisedingycell. This little 12” x 12” opening was the only reason, he felt, that he had not slipped into insanity. Each morning, and as many times a day as his wasted body would allow him, he would go to the window, pull himself up to where his eyes could just see over the concrete wall and through the window. There he remained until his arms ached from holding himself up.