Black Dahlia & White Rose: Stories - Plot & Excerpts
Never be alone. This was wise advice. The inmates use urinals in the yard—try not to look in that direction.” She looked, of course—she and her companion both, in a nervous and involuntary reflex—but there was no one at the long trough-like urinal against the side of a building, nor was there anyone at the toilet—a lone, terribly exposed lidless toilet like an installation in an art exhibit—a few yards from the urinal. Vivianne’s companion and co-instructor in the volunteer-teaching program asked why was the outdoor toilet so public?—he hoped it wasn’t to embarrass and humiliate the inmates. Their guide, a civilian who was a co-director of the State Prison Education Program, said, not sharply, but with an air of subtle reprimand: “Of course not. If you saw what ‘toilets’ were provided for inmates in the yard a few decades ago, you’d know what an improvement this is.”
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