It’s a small piece, but it will be a growing piece.

All of a sudden I slipped and fell and hit the ground and I hit hard.

I sort of slid. First on my right side, then my back, then on my left side, not to hurt my foot.

Hostage is a crucifying aloneness. It is a silent, screaming slide into the bowels of ultimate despair. Hostage is a man hanging by his fingernails over the edge of chaos, feeling his fingers slowly straightening....