55. Face Candy “Five” Waste Age Teen Land [Rhymesayers]
“I’m getting ugly but it didn’t touch me.”
Two prisoners sat in different cells in different prisons in different countries. Both cells were silent and both prisons were expansive and both countries were broken. Neither prisoner knew the next time they’d hear the door unlock nor did they know the next time they’d see daylight nor did they know what life was like as an average citizen anymore. The first one’s feet swept the dust on the cement; so did the second’s. The second one’s eyes were glazed over and staring at one of four gray walls; so were the first’s. Then, almost immediately, their feet stopped swooping ever so lightly over the particles. They had each looked at the same exact spot on the wall opposite their cot and suddenly a oval-shaped gleam appeared, at once abstract and clear. Each metallic oval expediently transformed into the shape of a face and they began to see each other, as clearly as a high-definition television installed in the infrastructure of the cold concrete hell. It only lasted an instant, but for that instant they were mirrored versions of themselves, saying not a word but exchanging glances that reminded each other that they were somewhere else as much as they were where they were.
