Capacity

December 27, 2004

I never thought I’d live to see myself writing a note as absurd as this, under such absurd conditions, but your drastic circumstances require that I do. I don’t have a lot of space to work with, so read this carefully.

You will have a very vague, almost imaginary, recollection of how you got to your present situation. You may think your old mind has deceived you once again; played one of its old tricks on you. But the mere fact that you are reading this should prove to you that your predicament is as real as the wooden chair I have written this on, or the blackening of the bare white walls around you.

Unless the dispute has somehow come to an end as you’re reading it, the only sounds you’re hearing are still the footsteps out in the foyer. You probably still get your lavish meals at exactly the same time twice a day, and can probably predict when your captors will walk in based on the way the sunlight creeps in through your little clerestory window.

And as per your request, you will still be getting the daily newspaper along with your first meal, for the crossword puzzles that presently seem to be your only solace. Curiously enough, there will be at least one news item every few days that will be blacked out before being handed to you. And as usual, you will try to ask them the reason for this, but as you will soon discover for yourself, nobody so much as makes eye contact with you, let alone gets into a dialogue with you.

It was until this very day—the day I am hurriedly writing this note for you—that I have discovered their true intentions. There is, as you will find out sooner or later, one fact that has been concealed from you. This has been hidden from you not out of a fear of repercussion on the part of your captors, but because they are wholly content with, and trusting of, your current mental condition to disregard the starting point of this entire ordeal.

How did you find this out? As luck would have it, when you got your crossword puzzle earlier today, they had—for reasons still unknown to me—forgotten to blot out a certain news item in the lower right hand corner of today’s paper. It was an article titled “estranged wife still holds demented husband captive”. I would not have paid any heed to it had it not been for the accompanying photographs of yourself and the female captor that frequents your make-shift cell. The blurb described your ills in some detail, but confessed to not knowing where you were being held, or how long she would be holding you out for ransom.

What you do with this information now is up to you.

Good luck.
______________
Word Count: 482