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The Dinner Bell

A commotion started in the cells as the CO rang the dinner bell. The cells across the aisle were served first. The dinner menu was a choice of cheese or peanut butter sandwich and a carton of milk.

The mere thought of both items sickened me and irritated my wheat and dairy allergies. No dinner tonight. My body had already begun to shutdown, I was cold and miserable, and still very hungry.

“You gonna eat?” The mixed race man sitting next to me asked. I say man, but he couldn’t have been more than 20.

“No”

“Get me a sandwich then, just stand in line and grab me one.” I didn’t want to take on the task, but didn’t know what would result if I protested. When our cell was opened for dinner, I got in line and picked up a cheese sandwich and milk.

He took it without even a thank you. I guess politeness isn’t common place in jail. I sat and watched as the men in the various holding cells ate, wishing I wasn’t here. Suddenly, I was struck that I was the only white guy in the 3 cells I could see, nearly 60 men.

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