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Wishes from the Cage
Count came at dawn again, the usual routine that never changes. It brings back memories of the night I grabbed a knife during a drunken argument with my neighbor over loud music. He was just playing songs late; I completely lost control. He was a decent guy, a veteran who served his country, and he left behind a daughter who needed him. I came to in handcuffs, hungover and horrified. Booze transformed me into something ugly that night. I haven't had a drink since, but the harm stays done. Being alone here finally brought clear thinking—no more blaming alcohol or anything else. We have to take full responsibility for our choices. I do now. All I can send his family from this cell is sincere wishes for peace.

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