They loaded the bus with us and we sat there for a while without moving. “Don’t take your blindfold off, they have a camera,” someone observed.

“They are recording everything we are saying,” said another comrade.

I recognized the voice of the activist sitting next to me. He was a big guy, well over six feet tall. I was squashed into the corner of the last row of the bus. I tried to sit sideways to get more room. The steel seats of the bus made that difficult. It was uncomfortable. At least they didn’t zip tie my hands too tightly.

It must have been well after midnight when the bus started moving. We were all tired. I dozed fitfully, the whine of the bus transmission in my ears.

The post Welcome To Hell, Remembrances Of Time In Israeli Prison appeared first on PopularResistance.Org.

This post was originally published on PopularResistance.Org.