Contact information is exchanged upon meeting if you take a shine to another individual.

Someone always vanishes in the middle of the night.

In the psychiatric wards, you possibly had paper and something to write with.

In jail, anything important had to go into your bra or sock. Random searches were frequent.

My cell in Riverhead was next to the leader of the lesbian contingent. My name was now Ellen, and I was okay with that. She had all the stuff. It was like commissary Christmas. Once the cell gates opened, so did business.

Word got around that I might be seen before a judge. She walked into my cell and asked for the accurate spelling of my outside name. I reply what for Mamma? Webcrims. Ok. What’s that? Facebook for felons. You can find your friends anywhere, anytime the government has us all online.

There is even an app.