Thomas Hovering

The GPS monitor dug into his ankle and it hurt, all day. Thomas figured out a way to fall asleep with it, but by morning the black metal box with its flashing red and green lights had twisted around and it felt like someone had spent the night quietly sawing off his foot while he slept. I’ll get used to it. Sometime in the next 4 1/2 years of my probation I’ll stop noticing it.

Thomas turned onto his back so the monitor would be on top of his ankle. He desperately wanted to stay under the sheet and not face another blank day. He went through a mental ritual to motivate himself: What is happening in this moment? What is real? I am here, in bed, in my Indianapolis apartment. I am free. None of the restrictions imposed by the State are happening to me right now. I am not being stopped from traveling in this moment. I am healthy. I have resources. My happiness is up to me. I am free.

Thomas rolled out of bed and got dressed with an extra sock on his left foot to try and keep the monitor off his ankle bone. He was down to two or three shirts and one pair of pants that still fit him.

Downtown, strangers walked past him. People with their own secret life dramas. Nobody is thinking about me. I am free. Thomas was living off credit cards and eating lots of carbs. Comfort foods. Stuff he never would have eaten just a few months ago. French fries covered in cheese and gravy…