113

Welcome to my cell. The number on the front is 113. It is quite a stinking place, dusty and sweaty as it is. Freezing in the morning, hot in the afternoon, it is also a noisy place.
There are lots of different noises. Moans I hear when the world looks tilted, and a nice purr when it goes flat again. And then there are voices, many voices asking numerous questions and providing few answers. Once in a while I hear music.

I spend a good part of the day in my cell. The rest is recovery.