Of all the letters you have written, all the words you have left at the doorstep of your friends and family, all the phrases you have strung out and had printed in newspapers and echoed in auditoriums, you know much better than I do that there are some which will silence you. This is one.
“My room, call it my studio apartment, is a typical bunker, built on self-help basis, thanks to our meagre resources. Carved out from a hillock, it is a classical one-window room of fourteen-by-ten feet. The ten-foot high ceiling had 70 girders. Trivial information, you say? I count them every night before I can sleep. No, I have not grown insomniac, but I dare not venture out to count stars in this part of the world.”
When I find the strength to, I will write again. For now back to the books and highlighters.
hope you are at peace, world.