Jail Tales – The day they came for me

A story begins where it begins. Tomorrow my story may begin 40 years ago but today it begins here. I sat in the back of the cop car, handcuffed, watching through a blur of tears and window bars as the landscape of my life disappeared. The house faded behind the trees as we sped down... Continue Reading →

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Jail Tales – 3 – Experiencing, observing, analysing people

I used to go to church in the Spanish girls' cells. One of the women in our pod was a pastor. She held prayer meetings. A lot of crying and wailing went on and they had these songs they'd sing, like I'd never heard before, with a particular harmony and rhythm that felt alien at... Continue Reading →

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