Sometimes my stories scare me. I wonder at the place inside me from which they spring. How slender the thread is that holds my mind together.
I have walked on the edge of madness several times in my life. It is a scary place. Perhaps it is because I have been there that the mentally disturbed inmates at the jail where I work have generally liked me.
"You treat us like human beings." one of them said. How could I not. I have walked some of the paths that they tread all of the time.
That didn't make me easy on them, however. Most were not stupid, and had learned to manipulate people with their disabilities. Yes, I treated them like human beings. That included accountability.
Some understood that I was offering them dignity along with that accountability.
Yes, a lot of my little tales were fished from dark waters. Sometimes I scare myself.
Cruise to nowhere, and a salty cocktail hour
12 hours ago