Soon, he tired of keys and doors and patterns. Some combination of muscles in his neck twisted the top of his spine from looking up and studying the throbbing (or not throbbing) darkness high above. He put the box back onto the table. He went back to the center of the room and sat down. His respiration slowed. He took a pear out of a pocket in his jacket. He took a bite and let the juice of that fruit run down his knuckles.