Free The 'N' Word, Book 1 by Tiana Laveen

certain. On a sigh, he opened his wrinkled brown paper bag. The thing crinkled as he slid his hand into the dry material and clutched a saran wrapped honey ham, lettuce and tomato sandwich. On only three hours of sleep, he’d awoke and packed his lunch, which also included a blueberry granola bar that danced dangerously close to its expiration date, a hard boiled egg that held onto its shell with a foul death grip, and a half dozen pathetic, limp celery sticks that bent at the tips like Christmas candy canes.
    Finally a moment to myself…
    He sat back in his seat, taking the first bite of the thing. The sweet savory flavor of the honey mustard he’d spread on the toasted wheat bread gave his tongue a spicy-sweet delight. He looked lazily out of his window, noting the desolation. No one was out in the field at that moment, only the canvas of vibrant green grass, tetchy and dark barbed wire, and an area dedicated to exercise. The heavy silver weights were stacked neatly in a series of tin boxes, pushed up against the base of a thick gate. The sounds of Vivaldi’s ‘Spring’, from his Four Seasons composition, led him into a serene state of relaxation…
    KNOCK! KNOCK!
    With a piece of crisp lettuce jetting out from between his ever-working lips in mid-chew, he jumped in his seat as he stared at the closed door. Taking a big gulp of water, he set his sandwich down and cleared his throat.
    “Yes, come in.”
    The door slowly opened and revealed a fine specimen of the female sort…
    “Hello, I, uh…” She looked down at a paper in her hand, then back into his eyes. “I believe I was supposed to stop by and see you,” came the sultry, calming voice, much like one you’d hear on an easy-listening radio station. “My name is Mia Armstrong.”
    “Ohhh, yes… yes!” He quickly pushed his sandwich aside and wiped his hands on a crinkled napkin. “Please, come in.” He pointed to a seat in front of his desk.
    “Thank you,” the woman offered a gentle smile as she quietly closed the door behind her and sauntered over. Standing approximately 5’8, the woman’s deep tan complexion was flawless. Lustrous blue-black hair hung in loose waves along her shoulders, with a bit of frizziness at the ends. A neutral lipstick shade emphasized the fullness of her lips and her slightly slanted, dark, honey-colored eyes adorned with lush, midnight black lashes. The svelte woman a small waist and ample hips brandished a silky silver-blue shirt and slate gray pencil skirt that came down to the knee. The conservative black heels on her feet did nothing to lessen her appeal and natural beauty.
    “I hope I didn’t interrupt you from anything.” She took her seat before him, placed her folder upon his desk, then crossed her legs and clasped her hands over her knee. “It looks like you were eating your lunch.”
    “Oh, don’t worry about it.” He waved her off and shoved his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a long, busy day but I’m glad you found time to stop by, per my request.”
    “Of course. I was just in between classes, so thought I’d come by.”
    “Yes, you teach three adult reading classes here, correct?” He quickly flipped through his notes.
    “Yes, yes I do.” She nodded. “I also help some of the guys prepare for their GED testing.”
    “That is really good, Ms. Armstrong. Well, I won’t hold you so let me jump right into why I asked that regular staff and volunteers come and speak with me. As you know, I’m the newest Holman psychiatrist here. I have been assigned to work with a specific segment of the custodial population that has had multiple stints in the prison system… repeat offenders if you will. Mr. Jordan retired, and Warden Huckleberry decided to take that time and restructure the mental health program altogether.”
    The woman nodded in understanding, her focus keen upon him.
    “I plan to do a different sort of assessment with the inmates in my care. At which point, I