DAY 033: Something is not right
September 23, 2008 | Tuesday
I AM SCHEDULED to go out in a few minutes. Been up since breakfast, reading. Yesterday I was told that nobody goes out on Mondays from this section. Was just told to get ready. Going to heat up a cup of water to drink coffee out there while I walk in triangular circles. Joe B. should be out on the other side. Hmmm… Guess that I am not going out after all. I am restricted, I’ve been told by a toady looking officer. No sweat. I didn’t want to go out anyway, Toad.
It’s past noon. Earlier a mailroom employee brought a legal letter to me. Legal mail cannot be sent through regular channels. What I mean is that regular cell block officers pass out and pick up mail, but incoming legal letters must be delivered by a mailroom employee and opened in one’s presence. This letter wasn’t much news: it was a letter from the court advising me that they rescheduled my execution date yet failed to tell me for when the date was rescheduled. Very funny.
It’s late. Something woke me up… Somebody has been brought to Death Watch. I recognize the voice, it’s Alvin Kelly. Old Man Kelly! Something is not right. They put him in the “camera cell” where Joey is supposed to be. Wonder what that’s about. I won’t find out till tomorrow morning.
DeathWatchJournal Weblog 
October 29, 2008 at 1:27 am |
Hello, dear Rogelio,
Reading your first paragraph, two stories are coming in my mind.
The first one is a joke which refers to your “triangular circles”. I adore it when you are alluding to your “game space” in that way. You know, Belgian people have the reputation of being mad of “French fried potatoes” and also not so wily, crafty (Of course, I do not share this opinion!). So, do you know how to make a Belgian mad: you close him in a round room and tell him that there is a French fried potato in a corner (Triangular circles…)!
The second one is more personal.
When my two suns were little (oh the nice slip of the tongue, I meant of course my two sons) and they had not been nice, I used to tell them, for punishment: “OK, so we will not do this… or go there… or something else”. Jean-François used to cry and say : “Mum, I will be nice, I swear. Please let’s do… or let’s go…”
Vincent, the second (has always be proud as a peacock, but adorable, he too!), used to stare at me right in the eyes and say : “Oh well, it couldn’t have been better. I didn’t feel like at all to go to the cinema today (That day, the punishment was a nice Walt Disney movie).
And what do YOU say : *I didn’t want to go out anyway, Toad*!
Con tanto affetto, Rogelio