After dinner we quickly got bored. "Let's go to jail." Then we were stranded under a ductile wall watching street cleaners scrubbing aspalt. The barbed wire almost attenuated by the inconsequentially obstinate dust. Gate won't open for visitors, we therefore wandered to the backwall(where an elusive inn hides its entrance under the barred windows), and watched prisoners do their daily reconnaissance. We almost feel like it's time to say something, "This could be the rest place for all." Years behind that petrifying cement high wall, imaging felling from it, crushed by the remains, penetrated by the thorns, forgotten in the shadow, revive beneath this inn, call a jailbreaker connoisseur --"That why constraints means nothing. " We took a taxi home.