It’s 10pm, dark and raining. Four friends and I huddle on the cracked leather of an ancient sofa, playing cards. A few beer cans sit on the table and our muddy, rain-sodden clothes of the day hang dripping from the …
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Last weekend I went to prison. I was to spend the night in a cell at the infamous Långholmen Prison, Stockholm.
The hallways were long and narrow with row after row of bolted and numbered doors harbouring their confining cells behind. As expected my …