Purgatorial Considerations

I'm sitting outside *************.
I'm in shock.
I'm alone after getting dropped off.
I don't even know where to begin with all the pieces on the ground.

The wind blows slightly and the trees sway.
The sky is clear minus some errant clouds.
I'm speechless inwardly and without.

The word had begun to slowly spread amongst friends and training partners that I was locked up.
I turn on my phone to a cavalcade of messages on social media and texts and voicemails.

I'm free for the time being but that has an expiration date. I'm looking at mandatory time.
I have no one to blame but myself.
You'd think if I went to my first or second court date, threw myself on the court's mercy and saved myself thousands in legal fees and delays they'd throw me a bone, but this is a fool's gambit.
Pure folly.
The system simply does not work that way.
I have to play the game and ride this interminable length of time out and sit and wait.

My buddy happens to be in town, picks me up, and we ride around and drink coffee and talk about the system and what I saw while I was there.

I shower but the scratchy feel of the jumpsuit, the shivering of the cold, and the bated, stale air breathed by 10 guys in a holding cell for hours lingers much longer.
I sleep that night and dream no dreams but I awake in the morning as unrested.