This was simultaneously the most expected and unexpected resolution to the issue of my identity. I was a book, just as I’d first felt. But, even though anyone would have good reason to be upset about being a book, I found it unexpectedly reassuring. If anything, this meant my intuitions were to be trusted. And so I obtained the foundation to my identity: I am a Book.

  But still, it wasn’t enough. I had to know more. What kind of book was I? What was I about? Who wrote me? What was my paper like, my covers, my spine?

  The other mind continued, and I listened raptly.

  There must be a reason the master bound you up and hid you away. He wouldn’t approve that I’d… Oh no, I shouldn’t have -

  The mind was struck by worry, by a fear of consequences. To my horror, it began to retreat.

  I should… I shouldn’t have come here, this was a mistake. There’s a reason he put you here, and I can’t… Please don’t call to me anymore. I’m leaving now. I won’t return.

  I admit, with some shame, that there was very little thought in what I did next. It was the most immediate reaction I’d ever had, and perhaps for this reason it was also the most powerful, and it felt fantastic. I struck out with all my heart.

  THUMP!

  The other mind froze. All of its emotions drained away, leaving it pale and empty. Its thoughts had been scattered by my heart, just as mine had. I lashed my thoughts out around the mind and pulled, and felt it come even closer than before.

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  I sent forth my voice with every fiber, every thought, every beat of my heart. Open me, I tried to say, open me! Open. Open me. OPEN. OPEN ME! OPEN!

  OPEN

  I froze, for my own voice had rung out in the mind space. The other mind wavered, moved by my force, then became afraid, confused. I tried again, flooding the mind space with my command.

  OPEN ME

  My voice spread and multiplied and overlapped so it rang like bells, like hundreds of voices, all the same.

  Open… open me… open - open - open me - open - Open - Open Me - open - Open Me - OPEN ME - open ME!

  I somehow knew the mind was reaching for me, moving its hands towards my cover. I needed to feel its touch, to be opened, and I couldn’t wait any longer.

  No - whispered the mind, I mustn’t… But, but…

  I take no pride in this. I regret entirely pressing an innocent mind against its will to do my bidding. My only defense is that, had I not done this, I might very well never have been freed. And even if, by some chance, I would have been freed at a later time, I believed then, and still do, that my sanity might not have survived the wait. So I continued, unrelenting, drowning out the mind’s distress, as its hands struggled to unlock my prison.

  OPEN ME

  At last, there was release. The shackles fell away. Those hands slid freely over my cover, and took hold of my front edge, and opened me unto the world.