There are places geography seems to conspire against the mind. The world appears to defy physics. In one such place, a tower appears to narrow and focus all of its attention onto a single room.
In this room there is a man, sitting at a desk carefully, copying out three exact copies of a missive.
This time it is a poem. It is a very good poem. He has had 30 years in this room to practice.
The room has only two exits. The first is a window that stares out into a vast nothingness. Over time, he has moved from rage to a kind of acceptance.
But every day he takes a moment to look out the window and wonder if it offers a method of escape.
The second exit is a pneumatic tube, where he will place one copy of his missive. He sometimes imagines that in his homeland his reputation has experienced a redemptive third act. He imagines he can sense his captors approval by the food they send him. Sometimes he imagines that he can sense his captors approval by the food the send him.
He promises himself that he will not forget their mercy in keeping him alive.
Just in case nobody is building an archive of his sage wisdom, he keeps a copy for himself.
When he is done, he places the first copy in his elaborate filling system, the second copy in the tube, and he takes the third copy over to the window.
There he attaches it to a string made from his 30 year-old blanket. He promises himself that he will not forget their kindness in providing him with quality materials.
In the distance, he thinks he can hear a sorrowful song being played, but that may be only in his mind. Sound travels in funny ways in places such as this. He cannot be sure if it comes from above, below, or the echoes of his mind. His love for whoever is making it is pure.
He believes in honesty and authenticity, so the people below receive the same message as the people above. He has moved beyond rage to a kind of peace. But before he reached that point his plan for revenge was so complete that it had taken on an aura of its own. It has a life of his own.
The people above do not know about the people below, but they soon will. He promises himself that he will have mercy when the time comes.