Sent to the Office

The wardens waited in the office of the Admin Building just outside the high perimeter fence. We came out to the prison to pitch a film idea. A. wanted to interview some of the inmates in the writing workshops as part of a documentary about prison education. I was here as the connection. I did not know, nor had never met the wardens. The small, scared and lazy part of me wanted to stay home under the covers and forget all about this writing shit. What if I had to work harder as a result of this meeting? What if things went wrong? Didn't go according to plan? This is not me, not what I do. I don't put myself out there like this. I'm the one in the back row, the one who hides out. So, whoever this other me is takes a deep breath, comforts the complaining, safe little nervous Nellies of my coping narratives, and takes a step forward, into the next page of a book I always hoped to write.