The letter is wet. Your hand is shaking. You write in the mud of the trench. The rain is cold. It soaks the paper. The ink runs. It blots like blood. You are a detective here. You hunt a ghost. The ghost has a name. It is not a man. It is a sound. A hum. A vibration. It comes from the machine. The big iron beast. It sits in the valley. It chews the earth. It spits out smoke. The men say it is cursed. They cross themselves. They whisper. You do not whisper. You look. You listen. You are not superstitious. You are precise. You have a file. You have a theory. The theory says the machine is a trap. A loop. A wheel that never stops. You must break it. You must find the source. You walk into the dark. The fog is thick. It tastes of iron. It tastes of rust. You feel the hum in your teeth. It is low. It is deep. It is inside you. It has always been inside you. You remember your father. He was a mechanic. He worked on engines. He loved the sound. He said the engine sang. You hated the song. It was too loud. It was too angry. You left. You became a man of words. A man of law. You came here to solve a crime. The crime is silence. The crime is the noise that will not stop. The men are dying. Not from bullets. From the sound. They go mad. They tear at their ears. They scream. You have seen it. You have written it down. You are the investigator. You are the shield. But the shield is cracking. The fog closes in. You see the machine. It is vast. It is black. It has no face. It has no eyes. It has gears. They turn. They grind. They scream. You climb the ladder. The metal is hot. It burns your gloves. You do not care. You are close. You are near. The hum is louder. It is in your chest. It is in your blood. You think of your mother. She was gentle. She made tea. She read poetry. She did not like the factory. She said it stole the soul. You laughed then. You were young. You were proud. You thought you could control it. You were wrong. You are not the master. You are the slave. You are the gear. You are the fuel. You reach the top. You see the pilot. It is not a man. It is a mirror. It shows you. Your face is twisted. Your eyes are wide. Your mouth is open. You are screaming. You have been screaming for years. You do not know why. You do not know how. The letter in your hand is burning. The fire is small. It is warm. You hold it close. You do not throw it. You read it. You wrote it an hour ago. You wrote it in a fit of rage. You wrote it to your boss. You told him the machine was a lie. You told him the men were weak. You told him you would fix it. You were arrogant. You were blind. You did not see the truth. The truth is simple. The machine is you. The noise is you. The pain is you. You are the source. You are the engine. You have been running for a long time. You cannot stop. You cannot brake. The loop is tight. The wheel is fast. You look at the mirror again. The face in the glass smiles. It is a cruel smile. It is a knowing smile. It says you are trapped. It says you are alone. It says you are free. The freedom is terrible. The freedom is total. You drop the letter. It falls. It hits the mud. The mud swallows it. The fire dies. The smoke rises. It joins the fog. You stand there. You are still. You are quiet. The hum is gone. The silence is loud. The silence is heavy. You feel it in your bones. You feel it in your mind. It is a blank space. It is an empty room. You are in the room. You are alone. You are clean. You are new. You are dead. You are alive. The distinction is small. The distinction is nothing. You close your eyes. You open them. The machine is gone. The valley is empty. The rain has stopped. The sun is rising. It is pale. It is weak. It looks tired. It looks sad. You look at your hands. They are clean. They are pale. They are still. You do not shake. You do not write. You have nothing to say. You have nothing to hide. You have nothing to hunt. The ghost is gone. The ghost was you. The ghost is dead. You walk down the hill. Your feet do not sink in the mud. The ground is firm. The air is sweet. It smells of rain. It smells of earth. It smells of life. You walk to the village. The men are sleeping. They are safe. They are quiet. They do not scream. They do not tear. They breathe. They dream. You do not join them. You walk further. You walk into the fields. The grass is green. It is soft. It is wet. You lie down. You look at the sky. The sky is blue. It is wide. It is deep. You see a bird. It flies. It is small. It is free. It has no chain. It has no cage. It has no song. It has no noise. It is just a bird. It is just air. It is just motion. You envy it. You pity it. You are jealous. You are glad. You are sorry. The feelings are mixed. The feelings are clear. You understand now. You understand the loop. The loop is not a prison. The loop is a choice. You chose the noise. You chose the anger. You chose the fight. You chose the hate. You built the machine. You fed it. You drove it. You are the driver. You are the fuel. You are the fire. You can stop. You can stop now. You stop. You lie still. You breathe in. You breathe out. You let go. You let go of the name. You let go of the title. You let go of the rank. You let go of the past. You let go of the future. You are here. You are now. You are nothing. You are everything. The sun is higher. The light is warm. It touches your face. It is gentle. It is kind. It is forgiving. You close your eyes again. You do not dream. You do not think. You do not feel. You are. You are. You are. The end is not a door. The end is a wall. The wall is soft. The wall is warm. The wall is you. You press your face against it. You press your heart against it. You merge. You blend. You become the wall. You become the silence. You become the peace. The peace is tragic. The peace is beautiful. The peace is final. You do not regret it. You do not fear it. You do not hope. You do not wait. You are done. You are finished. You are complete. The letter is in the mud. The ink is dry. The words are gone. The paper is gone. The truth is gone. The truth was never there. The truth was you. You are gone. The machine is gone. The noise is gone. The world is quiet. The world is still. The world is free. The freedom is vast. The freedom is lonely. The freedom is sad. The freedom is sweet. You taste it. You swallow it. You digest it. You pass it. You are empty. You are full. You are light. You are heavy. You are air. You are stone. You are dust. You are star. You are earth. You are sky. You are all. You are none. You are here. You are gone. The story ends. The story begins. The cycle turns. The wheel spins. The gear grinds. The hum returns. It is faint. It is low. It is in your blood. It is in your bone. It is in your soul. You hear it. You know it. You accept it. You do not fight. You do not run. You do not hide. You listen. You wait. You watch. The bird flies. The sun sets. The night comes. The stars come. The moon comes. The dark comes. You are in the dark. You are in the light. You are in the middle. You are in the loop. You are in the machine. You are the machine. You are the driver. You are the fuel. You are the fire. You are the noise. You are the silence. You are the end. You are the start. You are the story. You are the letter. You are the ink. You are the mud. You are the rain. You are the sun. You are the earth. You are the sky. You are the bird. You are the man. You are the ghost. You are the detective. You are the victim. You are the culprit. You are the judge. You are the jury. You are the prison. You are the key. You are the lock. You are the door. You are the wall. You are the room. You are the space. You are the time. You are the moment. You are the eternity. You are the nothing. You are the everything. You are the truth. You are the lie. You are the real. You are the fake. You are the sound. You are the silence. You are the noise. You are the peace. You are the pain. You are the joy. You are the fear. You are the love. You are the hate. You are the anger. You are the calm. You are the fire. You are the ice. You are the water. You are the air. You are the earth. You are the stone. You are the wood. You are the metal. You are the glass. You are the light. You are the dark. You are the shadow. You are the mirror. You are the eye. You are the ear. You are the nose. You are the mouth. You are the hand. You are the foot. You are the head. You are the heart. You are the mind. You are the soul. You are the spirit. You are the ghost. You are the demon. You are the angel. You are the devil. You are the god. You are the man. You are the woman. You are the child. You are the old. You are the young. You are the dead. You are the alive. You are the past. You are the present. You are the future. You are the beginning. You are the end. You are the middle. You are the loop. You are the wheel. You are the gear. You are the machine. You are the driver. You are the fuel. You are the fire. You are the noise. You are the silence. You are the peace. You are the pain. You are the joy. You are the fear. You are the love. You are the hate. You are the anger. You are the calm. You are the everything. You are the nothing. You are the story.