My uniform and cell has become even more boring and devoid of personality now that additional rules have been imposed by inspections of the unrelenting officers. Dull green, gray, and dirty white is the specified décor motif, artwork or colors on walls, shelves or desk … bare. I’ve arranged my “hygiene shelf” with colorful bottles in different heights to add a little dimension. Selected books and folders for their design and colors standing on the bookshelf and not subject — my personal resistance to the sanctuary restrictions.
As I write this, we are confined to our cells all day without any Day Room and I am located away from outside windows – having view of telephones we cannot use. Being alone in this solitary place of refuge really doesn’t bother me – I am a loner by nature.
There is a big fly also trapped sharing my space, something alive for me to watch and learn about. At first, I was going to swat and kill it with a rolled-up magazine. But, why do that? He is confined just like me and yearns to be outside in the yard where he can buzz around or fly far away through the barbed wire.
I study him and think he is polishing his head with his arms and making it shine. So, I grab my hairbrush stroking my hair and say, “me too.” He polishes so vigorously that his neck looks thinner, like a black thread. So, I run my fingers massaging the scalp and it feels good but doesn’t lengthen my neck – maybe my hair looks longer and redder with a shine. The fly scrapes his hind legs and next does his own toilet. Apparently, my entire cell can be his toilet, whereas I am restricted to the corner flushing apparatus.
I circle and flap my arms like wings and do my yoga moves. I progress to dance and probably look silly when the guard peers in my window. Who cares … we both are doing our own thing and rhythm in this space in harmony of unlikely friends. | CS
I study him and think he is polishing his head with his arms and making it shine. So, I grab my hairbrush stroking my hair and say, “me too.” Wonderful!