just writing-

feeling inspired so I write

  “Our actions are best kept on a professional level”- my crush just crushed my hopes of having a decent woman, guess its back to the ratchet, the addicted and the broken. University studies 2016. As I sit in my class awaiting, anticipating my new life to start a sense of calm comes over me, while analyzing the competition amongst me in walks the teacher with all her teacher stuff, -her books, her I phone and black stretchy pants but not to stretchy just right in my opinion. Complementing her thick hair her beautiful eyes descend onto the classroom from the podium as she arranges and prepares for the job in which she’s obviously over qualified for, probably just filling a need for the university. This woman is not a super model like you see on the spud Makenzie commercials for bud light, she’s not an athlete, she’s something thou not sure exactly, but she’s beautiful so beautiful that Its impossible for me to stop looking at her and at the same time remain hidden enough so that its not noticeable. Scanning the room once again for competition, only this time its to see who can beat me to her heart. This is a big step toward a better life, I mean even if she says no, even, if I never see her again... she's given me inspiration.

      Looking out the four inches by four-foot shatter proof window of my cell I can barely

 make out the town in which I’m incarcerated in. A black man pushes a civilian push 

mower across his yard as a figure brings him a glass to drink. He pauses from cutting and

 takes a sip. He looks up In my direction I wave but his demeanor remains unchanged. He 

cant see me for the scratches and lighter burn marks on the window pain made by the 

inmates from the past years. Through the concertina wire rolled up on the high fence that

 separates the small town from the court sentenced dejects,  I cansee what appears to be a 

red bird (continued 9-30-2018)Perched on the rooftop of my maw maws delta 88. Hoping to the ground he joined the other species of birds selectively pecking the sunflower seeds out of the mix. His bright red feathers stood out proudly before the neighbors meandering dog trotted by aimlessly interrupting their peace I watched hopelessly as he flew off toward the pond.   “mail call”!!! my reflection looking back at me i turned to receive the piece of mail that was shoved through the hatch. ...

                                                                  (to be continued)