What
little hope I had, then, was out of reach, lost to me like the golden
days of the past. It was then that I was overcome by despondency, the
hopelessness of my situation weighing my spirits down. It is a peculiar
trait of mine that in times of distress and in situations that seem to
have no possible favorable outcome I act rashly and without reason. You
will remember how I leaned forward and peered into the dark hole when I
was stranded on the tiny island in the sea, and how I struck the tree
with a limb on the shores of Lake Umquam Renatusum. Likewise, I again
did something which would seem illogical and vain: in my frustration, I
pushed the table that I happened to be standing against with as much
force as I could muster. It slid softly along the carpeting before
coming to a halt a few inches from the glass wall. It made no noise or
jarring of the floor, but the sudden shifting of weight in the room
caused the tower to sway once more, as it had when I had run up the
stairs to the couch.
And, as had happened on the previous occasions, the result of my
senseless actions was good, as if guided by some external force, for an
idea came suddenly to my mind that would not have been there otherwise,
an idea that was outlandish and far-fetched, but was at the time my only
hope.
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