Talented Failure: The Works of A.T. Prenger

  Well, here I was again: locked away “fer my own good.” At least this time the chain was attached to the middle a’ the floor. Meant I could get up and walk around and stretch my legs some. There was one time where I was chained to a wall for a month. That got so boring that by the end a’ my imprisonment I’d taken ta’ hittin’ my head against the wall for fun. I made a game of seeing how long it took me ta’ knock myself out. When I woke up I would try ta’ beat the record. Don’t rightly remember how I got outta’ that situation. I had ta’ admit, aside from being wrongly locked up, there were worse places ta’ be. In my lifetime I had spent a lot a’ time in cells and this was one a’ the nicer ones, even compared ta’ real jail cells. Those were the worst. Often they were used as the drunk tank so’s they all smelled like puke and shit. The windows, if they had ‘em, were tiny meanin’ no air flow whatsoever. It all added up ta’ an uncomfortably claustrophobic level a’ hell. These Catholic...