Monday, June 21, 2010

What fresh hell is this?

posted Mon, 08 Oct 2007

Day 5 (although it seems like Day 50,000) of my captivity

My tormentors have tried everything to get me to talk: They have made me file papers in a storeroom where the files are not really in alphabetical order and then forbidden me to put them in order. “No! Do not put 7-11 in the S’s; it stays in its place between Eaton and FedEx.” They did the same with 3M. Shouldn’t it be under the “T’s?” NO! It goes before “Amgen!” [They might have had a point - numerals before letters.]

They have made me create filing labels with an old typewriter.

They have made me erect boxes and fill them with papers until my hands and forearms bled.

But I have not yielded. Our country’s secrets are safe with me.

Today, they cranked it up. They made me photocopy, staple and collate.


The copying. The stapling – only to unstaple again for the next iteration of the task, which would be more collating. Collating of papers that were out of alphabetical order! The sheer monotony of it all.

But I did not break. No matter how many times they asked me to “confess,” I refused. Even if the Geneva Conventions do not cover those out of uniform, making me subject to their cruel, cruel torture, I am stronger than they are. Give me liberty or give me death is what I say. They will never get a word out of me.

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