Sunday, January 8, 1984

This is what a prison cell looks like from the inside. Roughly as I imagined it from books about the Nazi era. Five step lengths long, three steps wide.

Instead of a fold-out cot, a double bunk bed along the left wall. A small table and two chairs on the right. In the corner between the bed and the cell door, a toilet bowl and a tiny washbasin with a narrow shelf above it. No poop bucket like the Russians have! That’s what I call progress.

A funnel-shaped depression at eye level in the iron-framed cell door made of solid wood. At waist height, a closed flap half the size of a canteen tray. Opposite the cell door, a barred window that could only be reached with a chair. A dim cellar light on the ceiling. All four walls from floor to half height sealed with a thick gray paint. Countless scribbles.

They locked me in here last night. There was even something to eat. Two slices of bred with something and a cup of something. No really bad words so far. Just “Stop!” and “Face the wall!” when various bars are opened and closed in the stairwell or third parties cross the path.

The door opens early in the morning. Warm water is poured into the sink and a razor blade is handed out. Shave and cat wash. At some point, the flap opens and breakfast served through. Two slices of bred with jam and a mug of Muckefuck.

At some, yard walk. Many rounds with unknown men in civilian clothes in single file in a circle. No talking, eye contact or gesticulating. Hands clasped on the back. One uniformed man with binoculars and a rifle on each of two watchtowers. Back to the cell at some point. “Stop!”. “Face the wall”. Lockdown. Lunch at some point. Potatoes with gravy and something. With a cup of something. Then nothing for hours. Until it gets dark outside again and the cellar light comes on.

Lying on the bed is forbidden. Looking out of the window is forbidden. But going to the west is also forbidden. Thus listening to hear if there are any suspicious noises outside the cell door. No. Looking to see if an eye can be seen in the peephole in the cell door. No. Then putting a chair under the window and looking out. Directly opposite the Greifswald train station. At the bus stop to Lubmin, colleagues who have been home for the weekend and want to go back to the dormitory. I can actually see them. They can’t see me.

Getting ready for bed after dinner. Now I’am allowed to go to bed. Then the light will be switched off. With tears in my eyes getting asleep hefty pondering. 𝓣𝓸 𝓑𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭

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