The dim cell

Two florescent lights on opposite walls flicker to life when you enter the room, after the 2 lbs. padlock. Dominated by a massive mat of a bed, the room is simple, poorly painted in an ivory color, and flickering in a dim, purple light. Sleep is equally interesting, as there are no windows, one cannot tell what time it is at all. One might as well be sleeping in a refrigerator, a meat locker, a time machine.

Dreams of late have been filled with violent, unpleasant imagery and complex plots. A struggling police drama, treason, ends with me, a sergeant, trying to strangle the traitor to death at the edge of a building, unsuccessfully. And after the appropriate information is gutted from our former colleague, my boss gingerly places a 1930's pocket revolver at the prisoner's chin and blows his head off.