I can't wait to be out of this place,
to get home and shower away the stink of the prison. It won't be long
until I can remove this uniform, change back into my own clothes,
collect my belongings and leave. Leave behind the keys and the doors,
the sound of boots on the steel-grilled landings, the sickening
weight of fear that is always lodged in my guts.
I can't wait for the doors to open, to
step out into daylight and be on my way home, away from the petty
rules, and the casual brutalisation.
It will feel so good, on the outside. I
never want to come back, but I know I will. Next week I'm on night
shift.
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