A Few Leap Years | 1
A Few Leap YearsAdrien Wilkins
I¶m only a few feet from the courtroom when I pause at theedge of some inconceivable boundary. The feeling that I¶m stilla prisoner hasn¶t left my body and my mind can¶t escape from thecage. Somewhere inside me resides David Clark, myself infinitelyaged, but I still am inmate 518. It¶s 2008 now ±26 years² and Ican feel the time in my bones like some deep rooted illness. Ifind it hard to believe that somewhere, out in front of me inthe timeline of my remaining days that there is anythingrecoverable from my former life.In my right hand is a manila envelope filled with a bunchof pamphlets to get convicts back on track after a bid. Iremember reading some time ago that the hardest part of aconviction was returning back to life. The term used in thearticle was
. I had been institutionalized. 26years of living my days by the prison¶s schedule had taken awaymy ability to function by myself. It was a purposeless time ofreckoning, of trying to find peace with myself. Now, at the edgeof 60, I had to find a purpose again after years of simplynothing.