Perhaps I am at last too far gone. I have become so lonesome that the buzzing of a fly trapped within my quarters comes as a reprieve from my isolation. Just to know that there is something else animate and living within these walls gives me undo excitement. It is conceivably morbid then that while I know that its minuscule brain will render it incapable of navigating a retreat from this unnatural space – and thus with time will wither away and die – that I am still unwilling to see it go free. Why must I alone be trapped here? It is fortunate to die so quickly, while my death has dragged on for years.
By this time you may have begun to question where I am so entombed, no doubt conjuring all sorts of gruesome images, imaginings of dank and abysmal dungeons, and the most deathly of bastilles. Would you be shocked if I were to tell you that I am imprisoned within a suite of no small means? What’s more that the doors and windows would give no resistance should I want to