To whom it may concern;

What a predicament! I am trapped. Like an animal in a zoo. I do not at all understand this strange, new surrounding. And though there is much (almost all!) that I am uncertain of with regard to this condition, I am quite certain of one thing. And that is that I am trapped. There will be no escape.

I must explain myself. I am surrounded on all sides by a white picket fence. I realize that this sounds quite silly; I questioned it myself at first, but it is sure enough a white picket fence. There was a time when I had just such a fence around the front yard of my home so I am well observed to draw such a conclusion. Of course the picket fence of my memory was only two feet high. I often would step over it when it suited me, ignoring the hindrance of the gate. A gate for such a fence seemed trivial to me, an unwanted nicety to keep up appearances but that served no purpose from my vantage. For what purpose could such a gate possibly serve? To keep out rodents? I have seen many a rodent in my lifetime and have witnessed them climb walls that might seem to be impenetrable, made of a material far harder to scurry than a simple, wooden fence. Rodents are clever creatures, they are given far less credit than they deserve. But I should be so lucky as to be blessed with that skill, or, for that matter, to have one of those frivolous and useless gates. For it would serve my purposes well in this current predicament. But I have inspected every inch to my own satisfaction and so please believe when I say, there is no gate.

Of course, the picket fence that encloses me now is by no means similar in stature to the fence of my memory. Unfortunately the fence before me is quite like a fortress. If I look up I cannot see the top of the fence. It seems to extend as far as my eye can see. It must be at least a mile high, or further I suppose, since I cannot see its end. I have scaled the fence for a distance, in hopes of catching a glimpse of a possible crest, but have had no luck, for the fence’s height does not seem to be bound by the limit of my sight. Not that I should have expected it to be so. Instead, even when I climb - and let me say that it is difficult to climb this fence, for the cracks between the boards are extraordinarily small and getting a firm grip, is quite painful - well even when I climb this difficult fence, I see no end to its height. It is, I suppose, quite like the tower of Babel.

I imagine some nights, before I drift off into the dreamless sleep that engulfs me of late, that I am climbing the fence, that I see its top and a wave of relief engulfs as I break out sobbing in tears of joy. But curiously, even in these imaginations of mine I am unable to reach the goal and climb to the top of the fence, as it does not fail but for sleep to steal me from my dream.

I am writing this now, this first entry, to record what will be my first true attempt to climb this fence. I do not plan to come down. For now I do not attempt its height with the curiousity of seeing its end, but with the hopes that I may find my way out of this terrible cage, before it brings to me my end.

S
- posted by Sigurd9/02/2004 01:25:00 AM