Prison sentence

It’s been16 months since I inadvertently walked into the state penitentiary. I thought I was there just for a quick visit. But somehow I ended up staying until I wore out my welcome. The warden called me into his office and politely asked if I would mind leaving early. “Not that we don’t like you. Not that we don’t enjoy your company. But as you can see, we don’t have a lot of space. And as you can see, there’s a long line of people who have been waiting for months, some for years, to get in.”

I did not really know how to respond.

“Admitting what you don’t know might very well be the step towards liberation,” said the warden as he pointed to the exit sign above the arched doorway.

Which lead me to think, if that were the case, then maybe I had been liberated decades ago, but was afraid to admit it. And then I realized I had no idea what liberation even meant. But I sort of knew this might not be the best time for me to try to figure that out.

I said, “Well .. well I guess it must be time for me to get going,” The warden nodded his head.

I said, “Well, well I suppose it’s that time.” The warden nodded his head again, put his hand on my shoulder and walked me out to the rideshare waiting area of the parking lot.

But so far, even after several weeks, my ride still has not come.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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