As I sit at my desk working on my latest English paper, the noise is deafening. Men locked in their cells, yet shouting. The sound of their fists and feet colliding with their steel cell doors reverberates around the housing unit. All of these sounds are carried to my cell – cell 91 – through the space below the door and through the vent.
Nevertheless, I attempt to work, but the noise is more than a mild distraction. It’s as if I’m being tapped on the shoulder each time I start a new sentence. Just when I think it can’t get any worse…it does. The idiots are now beating on the walls, floors, and ceilings of their cells. A football game must be on the TV.