Something seemed not right, but then, she was under a lot of pressure. It was clear to me that my being inside was tougher on her than it was on me.Ab...ut the middle of my second year of incarceration, she began to miss our visitation schedule. She wrote me each time that she was working overtime to keep the house. I couldn't fault her for that. We loved the house, but I did miss her visits.By the third year her visits were down to three times for the entire year: our anniversary month, my. He could barely believe all that had happened to him since he had left home for his usual run early in the morning. Now the sun was dipping toward the horizon, although the day was still warm, and the boy stood dumbly looking around himself as he tried to come to terms with suddenly being back in the regular world. It was so surreal, like stepping out of a dark movie theater into the bright sunshine of a summer afternoon, after watching some crazy horror movie. Just beyond the fence surrounding. More

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