CHAPTER 32
The sun’s almost set by the time I step foot out of their little administration building, and the gravity of my situation starts to sink in. I know nobody here. I don’t speak any of the language because, just like the stupid and brash American I am, I never expected to find myself in a part of the world where I couldn’t get by with plain old English.
I’ve seen today’s date multiple times on multiple sheets of formal paperwork I’ve had to sign. I know I’ve missed Grandma Lucy’s birthday. Missed it by several weeks. Leaves will be changing back home. If the chill that’s already seeped into the evening air is any indication, winter will be upon us soon. My first of eight winters here in a hard labor camp.
My prison uniform smells like mold. There is no way I’ll ever get used to
