Day Forty-One
Though Roberto has long learned to cede all thoughts to the darkness, putting aside the frustration of any desire to move... or even engage one of his senses, he cannot rid himself of the perception that his daily interval of emancipation is overdue.
He has conceded to the urges of a full bladder. He needs to move his bowels. His empty stomach rumbles. And as he lies in his excretions he is mentally returned to the early days of his captivity when a stern Miss Karen kept him locked away until he broke.
He would once again beg, should he hear the slightest evidence of visitors. Perhaps he should speculate, the thick steel only yielding sound when a merciful hand manipulates the locking clasps. It could be that someone stands nearby and will offer grace if he beseeches...
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