Author : Steve Smith, Staff Writer
This is the first time I’ve been awake in… I don’t know. Months? Years?
The sentence they gave me was a twenty year stint in this meat locker. There’s nobody around to tell me how far in I am.
The air in here is brutally stale; heavy with the smell of sweat and piss. I should be on line air, and this can’s supposed to be sealed tight. It’s not though, there’s something wrong with the system and they’ve cracked all the lids so we can breathe.
I must be on the downslope of this thing, my muscles don’t respond worth shit and I can feel the edges of my teeth where my gums are peeling back. That doesn’t happen overnight.
Some water would be nice, my mouth feels like something crawled in it and died. There’s nobody around to fetch a drink either.
Whatever they’ve broken, they’d better fix it soon. I’m not sure how long I’ve been awake in here; days I think, maybe a week or two.
Twenty years as a popsicle didn’t seem so bad at the start. Go to sleep, wake up and I deal with what I deal with when I get out. But this… this is inhumane.
I can feel the halo they screwed into my skull, the tugging and nagging pressure of the lead tapped in through the bone.
I think they jarred it when they took the lid off.
Or was it putting the lid back on?
I can’t remember, how long have I been awake? Days? Weeks?
Or am I still asleep?
Twenty years as a popsicle. Never occurred to me it could be so cold.
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