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Punks

Thursday Afternoon

Dear Minnie,

I have been here for three full days now. The lawyer says he’ll get me out Monday. He’s a pretty cool guy. He goes on about how the cops are the real rats and they’re all corrupt and he tells me we will nail those bastards to the wall. He makes me laugh. It's fucking great. Most of the time I spend playing cards with some of the guys or drawing tats in my cell here. I have given some of my flash to some of the guys here. A few already have some tattoos. Mostly stuff they have done to themselves here. Mostly without color. Mostly terrible. But that's okay. A whole bunch of the them said they would come see me to have them covered up when I set up shop. If they all show-up, I have figured out I’ll make 6000 dollars so far. That's fucking awesome. I can't wait until I am old enough to apprentice. Birdie says she'll teach me, but she doesn't think I will want to do it for very long. Says I will probably give up. Don't you think she's crazy? Old people forget about destiny, I think. I do not know why I am writing about all the stuff I’ll just be telling you on Saturday. Just excited about it, I guess. It's not too bad here in the joint really. Someone cooks me three meals a day. And I get a clean jump suit everyday. They are orange. You would probably love them. The guys told me not to drink the coffee here cuz the guards like to piss in it, but I do not like the shit anyway. I'd rather be drinking something else. The worst thing is I can't smoke in here. I want one all the time. I will probably tug out all my hair before I get out. I'm not joking. There is some weird Mormon kid with big ears in here. Some of the guys says he's here for fucking a sheep. I am not sure I believe that. But the kid is pretty creepy. All pale and stuff. There's two black kids with AIDS here too. I wish you could see them, Minnie. But this is no place for a girl. I never want to see you here. No, that is not true. I DO want to see you on Saturday. I just mean I never want you to have to come here as a prisoner. I am not gonna be coming back here either. I miss outside. They do not let us out here. I guess I miss that even more than i do a smoke.
They're starting to let kids outta their cells for supper so I gotta go.
I meant what I said in the park that night.

Tommy



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Comments

ticknart said…
Tommy never struck me as the letter writing sort, at least not to Minnie. Maybe to Samantha, but she's dead, isn't she.
Monday, 15 October 2007 at 11:47:00 GMT-4
Queenie said…
Everyone becomes the letter writing type in jail.
Don't they?
Monday, 15 October 2007 at 19:52:00 GMT-4
Terrible lie said…
The food in jail is terrible..and ..from what my father has told me..they feed you enough to keep you alive .you have no energy ..just enough calories to keep you going
Thursday, 18 October 2007 at 18:31:00 GMT-4
Jennifer said…
I love how Tommy writes... like his personality I guess.

Hey you!
Friday, 19 October 2007 at 22:57:00 GMT-4
Anonymous said…
I am afraid of the NaNo...I would love to attempt it, though:) Good to see you visiting me again!
Saturday, 27 October 2007 at 00:03:00 GMT-4
Anonymous said…
Wow. Love returning to your site to find TOMMY on tap. Still, as always, great stuff, Q.
Friday, 2 November 2007 at 19:29:00 GMT-4
Karri Bowman said…
seriously, Q, i love tommy with all my heart. this was the best letter ever.

my favorite lines: "If they all show-up, I have figured out I’ll make 6000 dollars so far. That's fucking awesome."

and

"i meant what i said in the park that night"

i just love him.
Monday, 26 November 2007 at 16:03:00 GMT-5
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