Page 5 of Day Break

For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning

The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,

Like Lucifer when hurled from

Heaven for sinning;

Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,

Being Pride, which leads the mind to

soar too far,

Till our own weakness shows us what we are.”

This passage played over in my mind until I noticed the first slivers of light. I didn’t understand why it stuck in my mind. I had read it more than a hundred times. Memorized it. It seemed to touch something deep in me.

When I heard Lucy stirring above me, I knew that the quiet was about to come to an end.

My very first day in prison was about to begin. Would all the other women I was to be locked up with be as kind as the old woman on the bus and Lucy? I knew it wasn’t possible.

After the life I’d had so far, I wasn’t hopeful.

A loud buzzing sound caused me to jump again.

Lucy’s face appeared over the bunk. Her eyes scanned my face, and then she jumped off the top bunk and landed at my feet.

“If you’re shy, turn around,” she said before dropping her pants and using the toilet.

I quickly averted my eyes and looked down at my book. It was finally light enough that I could read the words on the pages.

I hunted down the quote I’d been replaying in my head all night and sighed when I found it.

I had remembered it, line for line, perfectly.

“You need to use it?” Lucy asked as she washed her hands in the sink and started to brush her teeth.

“I’ll wait,” I answered, being too shy to even think about going to the bathroom with a stranger in the room.

There was another loud buzzing sound, and our door flew open.

“Welp.” Lucy rubbed her hands together. “I’m going to get in line for breakfast.” She reached up into her bunk and grabbed something before disappearing out the door.

I watched several other people pass by the opened door but waited.

When I believed the coast was clear, I rushed to use the toilet, my eyes glued to the open door for fear someone would see me. They didn’t. No one passed by.

I washed my hands, only then remembering that I’d given away my bar of soap. I allowed the water to wash over them for as long as I dared.

When my stomach growled, I turned off the water, stuck my copy of Don Juan in my pocket, then slipped on my new shoes. They instantly hurt my feet, and I changed back to the old ones.

Leaving my things on my bunk, I stepped out the door and looked around. I could hear the hum of many voices talking at the same time to the right of me and followed the sound until I stepped into a large two-story room.

There were more than two dozen long tables with attached benches arranged in rows in the middle of the room. Close to fifty women of all shapes, sizes, and ethnicities stood in line in dull gray jumpsuits, holding trays.

I made my way to the end of the line, picked up a tray, and waited my turn.

I didn’t speak to anyone.