Stephan

They tried to take the dearest thing to me. Twenty four hour searing lights, the humming of the forced air and windowless near total isolation were nothing compared to the fear of losing my life affirming sense of time. But their efforts failed. Cleverly, I convinced them to replace the offered thin gruel with a fistful of corn, and I let my body’s natural rhythm serve as my clock. The earth turns, the bowels move.