I gazed at the darkness, watching the stars gossip and giggle. It wasn’t my place to listen in. But in any case my mind was far too preoccupied to be concerned with such idle matters.

Besides, I couldn’t fathom anything that would matter, these days.

The moon was different from those chittering, nonsensical stars. Benevolent. Relaxed. Magnanimous. He seemed to smile down at me, adjusting his glasses; almost like he knew (and cared) what was happening in my tiny, insignificant life.

As this thought occurred to me, I have a harsh laugh, and turned my back on the window. The candlelight flickered yellow against the stone walls; vermillion against the iron bars of my cell; orange against the face of the armoured guard who hissed at me,

“Shut up, you nutcase,”

He was probably right. It was well acknowledged that I was, to use his words, a nutcase.

It wasn’t enough that I’d lost my son. It wasn’t enough that I’d lost my pride.

Apparently I lost my mind somewhere along the way.