Beneath the Bond: Unraveling Secrets in Andrew Miller’s My Guys
***
A man who wanted to volunteer accompanied me to JCI. His posture stiffened as we passed through the sallyport and into the frisk room. His eyes darted back and forth when we stepped into the compound. When a long line of men in blue strode toward us, he veered off the walkway and onto the grass.
Men were already in the chapel when we entered. Some clustered around the sign-in sheet; others sat and spoke in low tones. A gray-haired Black man wrote the Word of the Day on the whiteboard. It was “plethora,” an “excessive quantity.”
Post Comment