In the rear of the cell, separated by a low wall, is an anachronism for a toilet: a rectangular porcelain trough set in a block of concrete. I’ve come across some pretty odd Japanese-style crappers, but this one, which must be as old as the jail itself, takes the cake. On the other side of the toilet is a large barred window that overlooks the courtyard between cell blocks B and C.
The courtyard is overrun with waist-high weeds. A small flock of sparrows, hidden among the grasses, chatter noisily, not a care in the world. The swallows dart in and out of the weeds. Finding breakfast, they return to a mud nest they’ve built in the breeze-block wall of Cell Block B.
It’s tempting to wish I were a bird, but I suspect that I would end up locked up in a cage all the same.