The locks were double-validated today. It was made sure that there is no way out. Not at least through the usual doors.

Last night, he found a way to the tower. The stars were singing out of tune. All at once, chattering for help or attention. He stood there, on the edge of the tower lookout, silent, listening, until the shounds became one. The waves of light made their way across the sky as if across the ocean.

It was not the time to escape, yet. It was a time to listen to the waves, to the song of the stars, to the trees as they stretched out to reach the sky. Even the moisture of the tower walls spoke. He could not yet know what they all said, but he listened.

The listening would quiet the voices he himself produced, that struggled to tear through his skin. Quiet.

Returning to his self-imposed isolation, he dreamt once again and sang with the waves that stretched across the night sky.