In 2006, January it was. My friend and I spent a night behind bars.
While walking to Cape Town, the smile of the sun turned into a frown. It rained and rained and rained some more. Just our luck, when it rained it poured.
We had no home, no place to sleep. As we stood on the road our knees went weak. We asked the police if we could sleep in a cell. They said, “sure thing, but it ain’t no hotel.”
The bed was hard, the room was cold. It was a damn good thing that it had no mold. A light shone bright, in our eyes all night. We used our blankets to avoid frostbite. In the corner of the room sat a plastic bin, that we were told to go to the toilet in.
We made best friends with another cell mate. I forget his name, but he was underweight. He came in late because he was drunk. He talked alot and smelt like a skunk.
When the sun smiled again, we left the jail. We walked out proud, without paying bail.
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