The worst part about being on the first tier was the windows. In my previous cells, I had been able to look far beyond the barbed wire, at the sunset. Closer to hand, in San Quentin’s grassy courtyard, I’d seen prisoners being baptized in the baptismal pool and heard the preacher’s voice calling out, “This man is giving his heart to Jesus.” But here on the first tier the windows were all painted over so you couldn’t see outside. That meant I was no longer able to reach beyond this place with my eyes. I didn’t know if the skies were blue or cloudy. I had to search for the time of day. These
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