The curtain swayed back and forth, outside a glimmering flicker of what could be construed as hope. It had been two months. Sixty-eight days to be exact. Unless I missed a count which is both unlikely and very likely given my current circumstances. The stench of mildew, mold and living in a cage for sixty-eight days will do that to you.

My abode is cramped but spacious enough for a bed and I h...