Christmas Eve
Sunday, December 25, 2011 at 8:57AM
Edward B Fogarty

He was an older man compared to the majority with whom he was housed.  In his early 40's, slight of build, 5 foot nine or ten, slightly hunched and sporting a dark mustache below a thinning crown of hair.  He had no name, though a number marking his identify was stitched somewhere on his green jumpsuit.  He was in transit when spotted through a plate glass window from a visiting room which peered into a windowless hallway, he seemingly in perennial smile subservient to his masters, two guards, uniformed in blue, who were directing him to turn first left, then right and through to the next cell block.  

It was Christmas Eve in prison, his green jumpsuit an indicator he was under sentence for whatever crime he had committed several months or years ago.  Green for sentenced, Orange for awaiting trial.  Mixed in with the Green and Orange from time to time were inmates dressed in the classic black and white striped garb.  Perhaps these men had committed some infraction of the many prison rules and were on some special detail or punishment.  It was not clear at first glance.  

The guard room across from the visiting area was filled with prison technology, monitor screens, three across, surveyed rooms, cells and the visiting area as cameras switched views once each ten seconds or so.  The man in green had stopped at a cell door near the guardroom, he had on his fixed smile, a cell door opened and he passed through.  Smiling.  On to a better cell for Christmas?  

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