What’s she doing here, how did she get here, what is this place, how does she escape? 

How long has she been here? 

It’s a game, a puzzle, which Grace feels compelled to solve. 

Maybe today’s the day, maybe she’ll crack it.

‘Crack’—the verb breaks through her consciousness like a divine thunderbolt. She reaches out, pressing her palms against a structure solid as steel. She’s discovered the material of her imprisonment—a glass beyond transparent, beyond invisible. 

She leans her weight against it. It closes in so tight her lungs collapse.

Still, she manages a breath.

An inspiration. She presses her ear to the cell wall. A chaotic chorus of dissonant voices assaults her, launching her backwards, her body thrown against the unforgiving substance of her unseen cylindrical cage. 

Curiosity overcoming terror, she returns her ear to the oppressing surface, and listens. 

What’s she doing here, how did she get here, what is this place, how does she escape? How long has she been here? 

The secret, she knows in a shattering stroke of insight, is to break free from the language of her thoughts. To break free from language entirely.

Her breath forms a mist on the enveloping window. With her finger, Grace traces a message.