Bang Kwang prison, Bangkok
The Here and Now
"Letter for you," shouts the guard as he launches a scrunched-up envelope in my direction.
My heart beats faster and a little shiver races up my neck. This is the first letter I've had since I arrived in this God-forsaken place. Who could it be from? Is help on the way? I clutch it tight to my chest and retreat to a corner of the communal yard where I can get some privacy to savour the words which someone has penned just for me.
I hold the treasure to my face so I can enjoy the writing. Shit. Mr Frank Morris. Shit, this isn't for me. Thoughts cascade through my brain; should I give it back to the guard, should I seek out Mr Frank Morris? No to both, I'm keeping the letter and I'm not going to let the little twinges of guilt and shame stop me enjoying the only good thing that's happened to me in weeks.