Sunday, July 29, 2012

One Way Out

The compound wasn't big enough to get lost. Of course we were watched constantly. After three weeks I was losing my mind. I had been arrested and charged with wearing denim on a Wednesday, which was corduroy day. For some reason I thought it was Tuesday, which was denim day. I was sentenced to six months hard time wearing fleece. Fleece is very warm and I sweated all day and night.
There was only one way out. Every Tuesday and Friday the laundry truck came to drop off clean clothes and pick up the dirty ones. If I could get myself tossed onto that truck I'd be free.
One day I sneaked away from the cafeteria and hid inside a laundry bag in the pick up room. I waited. And waited. Three hours I waited, sweltering in my fleece outfit and no one came. Then I realized it was actually Thursday and I had screwed up.
I know I'll be punished for being missing. The last guy was forced to watch America's Top Model all day. He was taken away in a straight jacket. Another way out.

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