“Oh, the Midnight Special / shine the light on me”

That song was written, you know, from the perspective of prison. The way the tracks went, the headlight on the locomotive would shine in the windows in the dark of midnight, and so they knew the real world was still out there. They also counted the days.

I know.

It’s been thirty years since I got taken for shooting my wife. Inside I’ve friends, a network, heck, an economy. I help out my friends, they help out me.

But it’s not like a work week or something. You work every day, you fight every day. There aren’t any days off here.

My appeals have run out. The sleepy attorneys who’ve claimed to be on my side are finally awake, and the chaplain’s come by.

He came by on Monday, when I got a two-day stay, but no more. The asshole governor didn’t give a damn.

The sun’s shining.

The birds are chirping.

And it’s Wednesday.