In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from Shawshank prison. All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old
rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub. I used to think it would take
six-hundred years to tunnel under the
wall with it. Old Andy did it in less than twenty. Oh, Andy loved Geology, I guess it appealed to his meticulous nature. An ice age here, million years of mountain building there. Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really, pressure, and time. That, and a big god-damned poster. Like I said, in prison a man will do anything to keep his mind occupied. It turns out Andy's favourite hobby was totin' his
wall through the exercise
yard, a handful at a time. I guess after
Tommy was killed, he decided he had been here just about long enough. Andy did
like he was told, buffed those shoes to a high
mirror shine. The guard simply didn't notice, neither did I... I
mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a mans shoes? Andy crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just
don't want too. Five-Hundred yards... that's the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.
