Thick Victorian Walls

On Saturday Vanesa and I went to visit a friend in a high security hospital.

Our minds were led through countless double ‘air-locked’ doors, the thick Victorian walls of the Justice System. The world of security clad men and women and the world of a patient clearly bifurcated and choreographed.

After fingerprints were extracted from calloused fingertips we were allowed entry into the visiting hall. Four of us left at a table, a table and four chairs screwed to the floor; we sat together opposite each other, four corners of a cross, drinking from safe plastic cups.

Our friend talked articulately with shining eyes, athletic build, a man that we hope one day will be living with us, back in society. We talked around music, physical fitness, cycle routes that he used to make and he talked about how time can be marked out and measured with intricate mathematical divisions, about the stone angel in the outer-grounds that he hasn’t yet seen.

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