During the time they’re in the cell together, two very different ships passing in the night, you can easily imagine that the hopeless man keeps talking and talking. That he doesn’t know how to stop because he doesn’t understand how others might see him. Or judge him. Or else he doesn’t care. You wonder how it can be that he has no questions of his own. That he doesn’t pause and ask the wise man sitting across from him “who are you?” and “why are you listening to me?” But you also know he’d never do that. It’s not that he couldn’t, it’s that he has no interest in a man in whom he sees no advantage. No way to exploit. Besides, he’s always believed the world’s against him, a flaw that’s ensured he’s never tried to make the world a better place. A flaw that absolves him of guilt. But he’s not without skill, of course. In fact, with his sweet face and even sweeter voice, he’s very convincing.
