“Well, I'll leave you to your 'picking up cans,'” I jeered and motioned towards his pathetic, sad, human prisoners and their negative thoughts. I didn't want to watch him eat worms out of people's brains anymore. I didn't care that he was committed to his good deeds in the same way inmates were committed to thinking about their crimes. It felt forced. I doubted it would get him anywhere.

“Be seeing you, brother,” said Raum as he turned his back on me. I knew from his tone that this wasn't a good or welcomed meeting. He didn't want to see me again. I left as he resumed digging into the next inmate's brain, pecking out a worm of bad feeling. It was the fear of dying alone.