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Unfiled June 28, 2002
 
One Day in Doctor Limonov's Prisoner Life
By Edward Limonov Browse author
 
Page 2 of 2
 
I was awakened in less than 40 minutes time: "A breakfast?" Fooder open, clad in white gown women-cook looks at us. "No thanks!" We never eat breakfast, but she asks nevertheless. They ask, because she is not only one cook woman.

After cook-woman that is a turn of deputy officer: "Take a walk?"

I never refused. Ikhtiander goes to the roof of a prison for a walk twice a month or three times a month. He is lazy. I am going every day, regardless of weather or health, because I am doing my sport exercises. Morning before the walk it's a painful time of the day. Why don't they do at once everything: collect garbage, collect letters, serve breakfast and sign you up for a walk? Because administration wants to be present in your life constantly.

About 8:10 they open the door to take me to the prison yard. Lefortovo Prison regulation requires that prisoners don't see each other. Lefortovo is a prison for the enemies of State. So we are walked as lonely Dantesque personages in our personal hell for each one of US. The prison yard is a few square meters of sky hidden by bars and iron net. That is also cell, but without ceiling-only bars and iron net. Population of cell-two or three prisoners. Not all prisoners go to the yard.

All 60 minutes some stupid radio station like "Russian Radio" or "Avto-Radio" or very stupid "Evropa Plus" plays aloud in my ears. All 60 minutes I run, I made endless push-ups, and other exercises, as running in kneeling position. Then I go back to cell where Ikhtiander is tortured in his sleep. He is also very stinking animal, he eats too much.

I boil myself a tea, I sit, I write, I read some of my five newspapers. I receive them by post: "Kommersant," "Nezavisamaya Gazeta," "Zavtra," "Sovietskaya Rossiaya" and "Limonka".

From 13.000 to 14.00 fooder opens again for serve us a soup and then second dish. Soup is a soup of prison-as to a second dish it is a boiled fish with a potato or kasha. Boiled seliodka, how about that! Edmunch Poupe like it.

After dinner I use my great privilege. AS far as I know I am only one prisoner who is permitted to work at some empty cell where I have a table lamp. Nobody never before heard in Lefortovo about table lamp. So I write from 14.30 until 19.30. I wrote six books and one play under that Lefortovo lamp, produced somewhere back in the 1930s. As I joked once, "Marshal Blukher probably wrote a full-hearted recognition of his crimes under that lamp." That is green lamp with a stalk and a red button.

About 19.40 I am walking back to my cell, my hands behind my back, clutching my notebooks. The color of walls in prison corridors-rosy until 1.5 meter high (rosy-unbelievable, isn't it!) and white above. Floors are color of adult shit. Corridors are four floors high, they are constructed as letter "K" (in Catherine the Great's time). In place where all parts of letter "K" are connected together that is a big table with computers and telephones and some devices of supervision (control of video cameras and microphones). Our prison is a beautiful piece of architecture.

Then we eat with Ikhtiander. Then I watch some news. Exactly at 22.00 I go to bed following the voice from "fooder." Ikhtiander stay to watch teley (he is writing "demands" very day under excuse that he wants to watch a match of football, but he watches movies.)

I am accused of organizing armed formation with a goal to commit terrorist attack on territory of Northern Kazakhstan and buying arms for that purpose. If condemned, I can have up to 24 years in prison, according to articles 205, 208, 222 and 280 of Russian penal code.

Truly Yours.

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