A Method Writing Short Story about Working in Prison

Thoughts Of Anxiety And Fear Cloud Her Judgement On How She Feels About People In Prison

The Chicks — excerpt from Wing of an Angel

Image by Amy from Pixabay

It’s the smell that hits you first. Stale sweat and burnt toast.

After all that effort and expense of training to be a life coach, I thought I’d be flying to exotic destinations like Hawaii, to work with rich clients in swanky hotels, and dainty white sandals on my jeweled feet. Sweet, scented air dusted my tanned arms. Cool cucumber water to sip between sessions.

But life had different plans. My road to meaningful work led me to prison. Hawaii would have to wait.

Instead of the sound of waves breaking onto bright white sand my days were filled with the shriek of alarms and a backdrop of barbed wire and filth. The bangs, shouts, and clangs niggled my nerves. The two’s landing of putrid air on K Wing at a prison in The Midlands was an insult to the senses. Rows of cells lined up next to each other like a string of cages. Each one is just big enough for a childlike single bed frame or bunk bed; lined with an inch-thick mattress, one sheet, and a thin grey blanket. Each cell contained a toilet with no door and a stained brown sink. Each cell…