I've been trapped, utterly trapped for so long. I sometimes feel like a character from a Charles Dickens book (Great Expectations), Miss Havishman who is a very ancient lady wearing a decaying wedding dress all the time, and trapped in her dusty strange mansion. She was jilted on the altar years and years past, but she can't get over it. Nothing has changed. Her wedding feast is still on the table, but all in dust and worms and decay. She flits about her strange cavernous hall, behaving erratically,...