On the underground / I sit and contemplate the ceiling. / London passes over me.
I had no access to poison, a rope, or any sharp objects. They confiscated any tool that would make death feasible. Had I owned pins, I wouldn’t have been satisfied with only pricking out my eyes in the manner of King Oedipus. They confiscated my tie, eyeglasses, belt, watch, and my wedding ring, and they placed me in a bare and cramped prison cell where it wasn’t even possible to smash my head against its walls.
“He fell silent; it was the silence of a man staring at the phantom of nothingness; a silence that spoke the full truth.”
She felt her chest growing tighter and exhaled. “Are you going to lecture me? Just tell me, how and where will I see him?”
“Cautiously, we came up with a plan. We studied it from all possible angles. We considered all the odds and maneuvered a way around each one. We kept in mind the lessons learned from previous prisoners, the schedules of the guards and the timing of their shifts, as well as the distance between the prison cells and the nearest public street, taking particular note of where pedestrians were permitted to roam.”
A shout awakens me; someone is yelling, “Ash-sha’b yurid isqat an-nizam [The People want to bring down the regime].” Does anyone believe this? I don’t.
“I want to put a sea / in my prison cell / I want to steal all prison cells / and throw them in the sea”