The Jail Walk

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Please read my short story The Jail Walk.

Submitted: June 02, 2013

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Submitted: June 02, 2013

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There were strange fittings on the psych ward cielings and it was common amongst us to think they were sensors and cameras. There were windows in each room with metal venetian blinds between two sheets of glass. You could open them with a plastic opener on our side. When they were open you could see silent cars whizzing past very smoothly. Infact there was something very unusual about this smooth gliding. It was very unusual to see cars with absolutely no sound.

The psych ward isn't somewhere where anyone would like to be. It was a medicated environment with not to much power of justice on your side. Infact the justice was negledgable for the patients.

I was doing the laps walking through the corridoor one day. The corridoor goes in one big square. It's a length of tubing like a subway tunnel. The floors were lino, the roof plaster; with little round led lighting inlayed within. The scenary zoomed past like tunnel vision with all the objects passing that were joyiously familiar. Sinks, murals, health propaganda with beautiful people in the photographs, warning signs for the nurses, glass windows and office doors for the specialists. All this was absorbed and quickly discarded for the tunnel vision.

I walked and walked swinging my arms and gingerly tapping my feet. I was mentally absent and the sights and sounds all merged into one sence, the sence of sensitivity. It was like everything I heared, smelled or saw entered my head and made my soft brain haze. I had a soft goofy smile on my lips because of the beauty. Especially the mural.

A patient I didn't know the name of joined me. He had sympathetic, intellegent eyes and like so many good decent people in the psych ward was serverely overwieght. He wore dark clothes that I thought he should replace with more colour so people could notice him and his personality and his hidden kindness-factor and generosity. We walked side by side briskly without conversing. The square was very suffocating and you knew this was the place you had to be for a indefinate amount of time. Still we walked.

Then my friend offered the jail walk to another guy. He was thick and had a paunch tummy. Brown hair above a confused forehead and a confused mouth with the same bright brown above. A thinly haired mustach.

Then a young girl, 24, and unsexual, without the ravages of the psych ward hitting her yet joined us.

We walked and walked, the four of us, for many a minute each time passing the glass behind which people played texas hold 'em poker. We walked the jail walk solomnly. Then another loner, a solitary shy-away-from-human-contact type of guy joined us. His jeans were to big for him and they had taken his belt.

Then a whole group of poker players smiled at the white plastic chairs and swung the door open and joined in. There were approximately ten of us. A diverse crew of all un-uniformly casually dressed with bits hanging out and worn colours ranging from all tan to bright garments. I had a smile on my face and so did the nurses in the nurses station. They found our little show of organising ourselves prickling.

"All right break it up. Very funny." One of the nurses said hanging out the door of the nurses station.


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