Suddenly one day when I woke up, the cell door was open. I had never seen it open. What's more, I didn't even know there was a door. The food was left to me through a box on the wall and no door was visible. It was perfectly assembled in the white material of the walls in such a way that I had never seen it. It had also the same thickness as the wall, like a high-security chamber. Much later I learned that in its day it had been the palace treasury room. Sunlight was coming in through the door, which I hadn't seen in years. If it is true that we could see the sun on the paths from the barracks to the mine, it was also true that no sun was ever enjoyed, so it was forgettable sun. But after spending an indeterminate time of perhaps months in that white room, the sunlight soothed my soul like water in the desert. It was light that allowed darkness, that created shadows and volumes and the perspective of a new space beyond the invisible white door in the wall. I knew immediately that I was being released from the cell for good. I had been suspecting that it would be like this ever since the food had started to improve, and they had given me those stimulating drinks. Unless it was just to look at me through the mirror, but I had the feeling that the person watching me was wanting to feed me well. What was the point of strengthening my body to let it numb to death in that aseptic cell? That person must have wanted something more from me than to watch me repeat the choreography, listen to my conversations with the mysterious stranger, and get drunk.

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Outside the cell there was a corridor with pointed windows that opened onto a patio with a very beautiful garden. I had never seen a garden. The game of shrubs and flowers forming bouquets of ordered curves and creating intimate paths surrounded by serial colors seemed spectacular to me. I leaned against the window and stared out into the garden, hoping that sooner or later someone would show up with instructions, but no one came. Only a few hours later, when the afternoon began to fall, a group of people entered the garden and began to walk slowly through it. They were young and wore clothes similar to the ones I had been wearing all this time. They laughed and talked animatedly. Although I didn't know how to put it into words then because I had never seen it before, the most refined sophistication adorned them. I suddenly remembered that I had spent a lot of time in that room and that I must be stinking. I had not had access to water other than to drink. I missed the sea, which was where I had always bathed. In the mine we washed ourselves with the same water with which the veins were mined. I did not know if there were other ways to perform hygiene. I suddenly felt ashamed. From the clothes I could quickly imagine that I was supposed to deal with these people. But I was in a deplorable state of rottenness next to them. The corridors were empty and silent, long and lost in the distance. I started to go through one of the four that left from the gallery, but all the doors were closed and they look exactly the same. No one was seen or heard. I thought about trying to run away, but it seemed really absurd that they had only opened the door to let me go. It did not make sense. It seemed clear to me that the door had been opened for me to go down into the garden. Besides, I wanted to. I felt that I wanted to visit that place. I went all the way around the gallery and on the south side I smelled the aroma of some flowers. Immediately I found stairs adorned with tiles of infinite colors that winded down to the multicolored rose bushes.