0025: Scar
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0025: “You almost done up there?”
Everly studies the front of the woman’s bed.
What is that lined up at the front of her bunk?
The woman is about three rows back, perching on the top mattress, her wide legs pretzle’d together. Her face sags with the weight of her cheeks and she waves a stubby hand as if shooing a fly away.
“You been using that phone long enough, girl. You done already? Can’t hear my show.”
Everly lowers herself down and perches on the edge of the toilet.
The toilet is conveniently located under the payphone, which is located under the television. All three features: phone, toilet, TV in the same tiny corner of this massive cell.
Everly glances back at Big Red’s bed.
Is that a row of milk cartons lined up at the front of her bunk?
Is Big Red going to DRINK all of that milk? Or is this jail’s version of bobble heads?
Milk cartons: the decorations of the incarcerated.
Plus, didn’t Big Red know she has to refrigerate dairy? Everly cringes, imagining the scent that would waft out of the pinched diamond if anyone dared to open the containers.
Everly shifts her eyes to the thin toilet paper roll, not wanting to irritate Big Red further. The chilly toilet rim pushes against her legs. Simple luxury in this place. No frills, just a toilet, a payphone. Very minimalistic. Not even a door to the commode.
Everly hopes she never has to go to the bathroom. What did they do? Just sit up front under the daytime soap opera and let it all out?
She glances up to the TV: LAW and ORDER is playing.
The drums of the opening credits beat out the theme song. It seems terrible to play this show about LAW and ORDER to the people IN jail.
Everly leaves her post at the payphone for the first time in hours and weaves through the rows of mattresses to the one she had made claim to earlier that morning. She’ll sit here. Pull herself together. Then try again.
A hand yanks the side of her dress, almost pulling it down past her nipple.
Everly swings her head, and the flesh of a deep scar greets her.
Everly studies the front of the woman’s bed.
What is that lined up at the front of her bunk?
The woman is about three rows back, perching on the top mattress, her wide legs pretzle’d together. Her face sags with the weight of her cheeks and she waves a stubby hand as if shooing a fly away.
“You been using that phone long enough, girl. You done already? Can’t hear my show.”
Everly lowers herself down and perches on the edge of the toilet.
The toilet is conveniently located under the payphone, which is located under the television. All three features: phone, toilet, TV in the same tiny corner of this massive cell.
Everly glances back at Big Red’s bed.
Is that a row of milk cartons lined up at the front of her bunk?
Is Big Red going to DRINK all of that milk? Or is this jail’s version of bobble heads?
Milk cartons: the decorations of the incarcerated.
Plus, didn’t Big Red know she has to refrigerate dairy? Everly cringes, imagining the scent that would waft out of the pinched diamond if anyone dared to open the containers.
Everly shifts her eyes to the thin toilet paper roll, not wanting to irritate Big Red further. The chilly toilet rim pushes against her legs. Simple luxury in this place. No frills, just a toilet, a payphone. Very minimalistic. Not even a door to the commode.
Everly hopes she never has to go to the bathroom. What did they do? Just sit up front under the daytime soap opera and let it all out?
She glances up to the TV: LAW and ORDER is playing.
The drums of the opening credits beat out the theme song. It seems terrible to play this show about LAW and ORDER to the people IN jail.
Everly leaves her post at the payphone for the first time in hours and weaves through the rows of mattresses to the one she had made claim to earlier that morning. She’ll sit here. Pull herself together. Then try again.
A hand yanks the side of her dress, almost pulling it down past her nipple.
Everly swings her head, and the flesh of a deep scar greets her.