Tomorrow is my last day out from Lizzie Windsor's emporium for social disasters - and, in my humble opinion, (well, maybe not so humble) the cons are no better.
I shall get myself washed and dressed in the morning and wander off over to the gate lodge, book myself out, collect my phone and climb aboard the bus to take me to that metropolis of sin and inertia which is the local town. It won't be my last time in town of course, not by a long chalk. I'll be there next week too, for a brief while I expect.
Anyway, when I get there I shall wander off to have a look in a couple of shops to see if I can get myself a couple of shirts and a red tie. Well, being a devout Capitalistic Socialist I need SOME sort of badge! (My politics are a hit confused.) At lunch time my intention is to toddle along to my regular little trattoria on the river front where I have munched my way through many tasty little meals in a convivial surround - very nice too. If anyone wants a decent meal in nice surroundings at a price that isn't involving armed robbery on a bank, try it - you can't miss it, it's near the church!
After my lunch I shall have a little wander and then toddle off to the railway station car park where I'll catch the shuttle bus back to jail. I'm coming back early because I have my packing to do for the next day when I am off to the city for five days for my last (hopefully) home leave, shacked up with various types of naughty boys including junkies. This is to help me to assimilate into our society again. Are they suggesting that society is saturated with junkies, or am I being a little unkind?
Anyway, five days and four nights - you can't get that on a Saga holiday with meals thrown in, not to mention free telly box.
On return to durance vile I will have eleven days to go to my parole hearing. As I have said before somewhere, there would appear not to be any flies in the ointment and things should go smoothly enough. It's all going to be about managing my risk in the free world, which puzzles me because they seem to be setting me up somewhat by forcing me to live with people who are basically social problems. But I'll survive - I always do.
A few weeks after the hearing I should be on my way to the hostel for the last time and everything will be hunky dory.
Ah!
Wait a minute there bald eagle. Could there be a dark figure lurking somewhere in the shadows? Is that fickle ould whore Lady Luck giving her DMs one last polishing to deliver me my final boot in the testacularities? I wouldn't put it past her, not a bit of it. However, if she is, it will need to be a good one because I am determined that nothing should go wrong, not at this late stage in the game, and let's face it, that's all prison is - a game. We come in, and those who learn the rules and how to play sail through with no trouble. Those, like me, who try to create their own rules end in enormous difficulties. I stand here as testimony to that simple fact. I tell you sincerely, it's not easy being me.
Oh well, we will see how things turn out I suppose. Until then all I can say is - well, here we are then.
The Voice in the Wilderness
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