A Meditation On Prison

It was supposed to be a sanctuary. A monument to the new world or the future. But that was all propaganda to ease the public’s concern and distress. Prisons had been supposedly updated to accommodate inmates. I know as well as any good journalist does that this is not the case. You see I was imprisoned for writing a story about how the President had gone mad and appeared to be in bad health. The first day of my arrest the guards threw me against a wall and stripped me naked. When I tried to protest against them tearing my clothes off the guard hit me with his baton, all the while I remained conscious. I was mortified as they hosed me down on an elevated floor, with the shower, buck naked and exposed.

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