My dad was in and out the prison system for over a decade throughout his life. I remember he’d round-circle my brothers and I, telling us stories of his experience behind bars. On one occasion he’d speak of ‘the hole’. As a kid, hearing him describe ‘the hole’ for the first time, I imagined a dark and dank pit with no windows. A place where one couldn’t even see their hands in front of their face, leaving only their thoughts to keep them company. Adult men screaming, banging walls, cursing;
Thank you for this piece, Gaelan.
A good read for me.