Susan LaffertyThe sand was slippery. Soft. Shifting as we plunged through it to our tents by the river.
Not just any river. The brilliant blue-green water rushing by this camp was the Ganga, otherwise known as the Ganges. Worshiped by millions of Hindus.
The conversation was one we had several times. “People have black hearts,” she would say. “People have rotten hearts.” She used the word that describes rotting fruit. Busuk.
We walked into a solitary confinement cell at Alcatraz. Dark and small. With double doors to keep out any light. No way of escape.
The prisoners that were allowed to look outside or walk to the yard, had stunning views of San Francisco and the surrounding towns. Beautiful hills and shores.
But those in solitary saw nothing much beyond the confining walls of their dark cells.