Records of the World: a Book of Mistranslations

Silence is a ring salesman. But he's not walking. The road is walking him. The four realms do not speak to each other, for each dialect digests the other. Silence does not belong to any realm - so he carries the box. Paper figures, compasses, masks, almanacs. Delivered to one place, the box is lighter. He thought it was the goods, but it was actually himself. The four letters were stacked together to spell out the fifth sentence. Not the text of any field. He found that he could write. After I finished writing, something turned over in the secret compartment of the box. The Shredder said: You are the ninth. The first eight all died on the same road. The title page of the oldest ledger reads: Do not open the box. Fingernails scratched countless times. He carried it anyway. Because he himself is the ninth piece of cargo. What you read is not a story. It is the ninth silent suicide note.