Day seven

Tea and gruel for breakfast again ..I’ve used up all the usual food ..looks like I’ll be raiding the survival kits up on the top shelf pretty soon. I haven’t seen another person in days ..not since Laura dropped by and left me some homemade soup. A discarded newspaper reports that Baghdad is sliding into chaos ..while we send men with shovels to try and contain the flow of events. I take another sip of tea ..and feel trace amounts of citrus and spice trigger a chain reaction at my taste receptor sites. OK, what do I say next ..what would Buddha say ..what do other people want me to say ..now that’s the million dollar question ..I’ll answer it by saying that I’d like to be called the doktor of space ..known for discovering the forces that explain how the mind keeps the world from blowing apart ..I’ll go up to the microphone and start each speech by saying that the first step was discovering the forces that made me feel as though the world was making my head blow apart ..that’ll satisfy anyone who’s in a riddle-solving frame of mind. A little flame flickers next to me ..they turned off the electricity weeks ago ..but that’s all right ..I like writing by candlelight ..makes me feel like mahatma gandhi ..and the wolves have stopped howling at the door ..they’re in the living room now ..I serve them rodents and tea.