Saturday’s Visit

Morning

Today

Finally here

Anxious

Stomach

Knots

“She coming?”

“Yep. Can’t wait.

Bringing my son, too.

He’s five now.

Haven’t seen him since he was one.”

Shower and shave

Iron clothes

Polish shoes

Like wet glass

Trim hair

Ten o’clock

Waiting, waiting, waiting

Wife

Four-hour trip

Wonder if she looks the same?

Pacing

Eleven o’clock

Nervous

Feel sick

Names called

Others leave

One by one

Twelve o’clock

Can’t eat

Alone

Worried

Read her letter

Again

Right day

Traffic?

Car trouble?

More pacing

Some returning

Happy

Wonderful visits

Kids and hugs

One o’clock

“Sure she’s coming?”

“She’ll be here.”

Try sitting

Leg jumping

Wringing hands.

Two o’clock

One more hour

Look out window

Sun is gone

Dark, boiling clouds

A raindrop

Then more

Lonely

Sad

Hurt

Three o’clock

Everyone back now

Laughter

Sharing family photos

“Maybe something came up.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Take off clothes

Fold them neatly

Shoes under bunk

Thunder shakes the cell

A tear hits the concrete

“Yeah, maybe something came up.

Just like last time.”

– Visiting day is an important day in the life of a prisoner. In some cases it’s the difference between sanity and falling over the edge. Sometimes that thin border of mental stability draws nearer when, on Saturday, their names are not called.

1 reply
  1. Sara
    Sara says:

    For those who are so consumed by the process of justice — seeking out the perpetrators of crimes and helping to ensure that just punishment is meted out — it can become so easy to see the perpetrator in simply black and white; he/she committed the crime and is thus bad. When society, including society’s law enforcement, fails to recognize or acknowledge the humanity that remains despite a criminal’s actions, the world becomes an exponentially colder place. Thank you for reminding us of this.

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