<div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/132c/qanv0vlare944wbzg.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Jaclyn Rosendahl</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Entrepreneur<br/><em>About Jaclyn</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=289408.msg14241614#msg14241614)<br/> ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ </span></span></div></div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… eventually the lights dim and we all get some sleep … the sounds are amazing … girls trying to have quiet orgasms … one who has unwelcome advances from her cellmate … whispers to me suggesting what I could provide them if we weren’t so separated … later, it quets … snores and fitful sleeping and nightmares … guards pass between the cells … I manage some sleep …<br/><br/>… a clanging wakes me from a dark sleep … breakfast soon? … I use the stool in the corner of my cell and carefully wipe with the harsh toilet paper with wood chips visible … follow the apparent ritual … go to breakfast … my fellow inmates are an interesting crowd … some sample me with pinches and nudging … others avoid … most ignore … breakfast is a thin gruel with burn bread slices and coffee flavored water … eat and don’t complain … ‘survive!’ … trust Peter … make it back to my cell … lay on the thin mattress and wait … things take time … so I wait …</em></span></span><br/>