by Margaret L. Becker
June 23, 2014
Antonio said something like it himself and I had felt it again, the phenomenon of the vanishing, even obliteration of time spent apart between people with a certain connection of heart and mind (some might say “soul) which transcends time when they meet again.
It had been four years since I last saw Tony at the maximum security Penitentiary in Colorado. So much life had whizzed by in the interim including a move for myself to St. Petersburg, Florida and Antonio to a medium security prison allowed by the remedy of less draconian sentence guidelines, to Marianna, Florida.
For me, the former visit had been a solo trek from the Florida Keys to Atlanta to Colorado Springs to Palmer Lake (where friends of the Five kindly put me up) and then finally to the rocky desert outpost of the Florence…
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