Solitaire

A mental patient sits in a secure room. Around him, rough concrete walls soak up light reflected by the smooth concrete floor. In the floor, all things-faces, bodies, hands-are reduced to a monotonous gray sheen. A question hangs in the air. It dissolves to silence. The patient has killed at least one other human-butchered in spectacular fashion. The patient refuses responsibility for his crimes and pleads ignorance, but the evidence against him is undeniable. He stacks his story high to play away the piled facts, creating a game to escape the truth, but he is cheating at his own version of solitaire. All he will share of his crimes is that another committed them, and if he talks, the other will come, the monster will arrive.