End of November; 11-29-2019

  [I am back working through my prison journal. It is out of order. The date in the title is the date it was written.Well, the order is as I have opened boxes. I hope this is not confusing. This was the last entry in this partiuclar packet. What you are reading is what you get for your tax dollars. sch 4/26/2025] 

Random thoughts fill out the remainder of a sheet of paper - a vast white wasteland needs filled in by my scrawl. Over the years my mind goes to my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Miller, for whom I was an affliction. I failed her, as I have so many others. I suppose she is dead. I assumed, two years ago, Linda Trout was dead. I suppose most of my teachers are dead. I suspect anyone wanting to read my writing is dead - or close to. Kevin Frone remains killed by this place. Paul Schmura may be dead thanks to the health care extended by the federal prison government. Gayann's silence makes me think of mortality, while KH's silence I assume has a more personal, less morbid, still fatal causes. Silence from my sisters, nay any of my kin, reassures me in my place in their lives. I assume CC is dead. I distract myself with the Russian Saints of The Northern Thebiad (Saint Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1975), and so should you. This note, the Russian saint, remind me how worldly I remain.

sch

[4/26/2025: three errors needing corrected - neither CC nor Paul S. have died; KH just doesn't write letters. sch]