Day 1

I have committed to using these numbers to my advantage. I have begun to assign them to the days as they pass. Perhaps this will aid me in my understanding of my surroundings. Perhaps I will be better able to discern between one day and the next. Perhaps my daily records will become more ordered and meaningful.

I have also noticed that there are books in my library: books that I had previously ignored, as I could not fathom their meaning, that are filled with numbers. In these books, numbers appear in great strings. They are organized in ways that make them easy for me to manipulate. I suspect there is great meaning in this practice, and so I have dedicated nearly the entire day to studying these books.

I sign, numerically,
1 2

Day 2

I have continued to study my number books today. While engrossed in a rather complex manipulation of a string of numbers (the more I understand of them, the more they actually appear to be similar in nature to letters and words, as I had originally imagined they were. At times it begins to seem as though I was not as wrong as I had initially thought), my attention was pulled to the window by one of the shadows that so often move across it. Frustrated by the distraction, I returned my eyes to my study. But as I tried to work, a slow and creeping feeling would not be shaken from my mind. Some feeling of familiarity had infected my thoughts and would not be still.

I returned my eyes to the window, then again to my book. A strange thing then happened. I imagined the distance between the window and myself as - a number. A finite distance represented by a specific number (specific I say, though I had not specified what that number need be). Fighting the urge to disregard this thought as frivolous, I then applied to that number the sum of my arm length, added to it the length that I could reasonably expect to pull from my chord (without pulling it from the wall) then added to that the length of the book in my hand. Surely it could be any object, but as it was a book I held in my hand, it was the thing that I had immediately entered into the equation.

I trembled at the conclusion to my equation. I stepped as close to the window as my cord would allow, reached out my hand to its farthest length, and slowly brushed the curtain with the far end ofthe book.