The Street-Which-Has-Walls

Davey! You're back! Oh I am so glad you've visited me again, brother. Tell me, how is mom? No...no she hasn't visited. When will she? You promised to take her to me, Davey, you promised. Busy? Oh yes, yes of course. Of course, my brother, yes. You. You are busy, aren't you? Busy banking on your street-which-has-walls, yes? Making money. Money for the nice house and cars and food stuffs and wife and mother. But. But, make sure, brother, make sure to celebrate yourmyour birthday! Yes, I've...I've calculated it, brother. Yourmyour birthday is coming in exactly 108 days, 2605 hours, 156351 minutes and 9381065, no 064, no 063 seconds...g-give or take, dear brother. Seconds always change. 054. 053. 05--How have I been doing? Oh, thank you so much for asking, Davey...these so-called doctors, they never care. Me? Yes well...I don't have the jacket anymore, as you can see, I--022 seconds. 021 seconds...I made a deal with them, brother. They release me and let me use my pens again. In return I--010, 009...I don't try and bite through my tongue. Not to KILL myself, Davey! You know me better than that! I needed SOMETHING to write with and...blood is like red ink, no? Yes. So they say "Issaic, you will have your pens, but no more biting of the tongue". I say "Yes, doctors, yes! Just no more of this jacket!" They let me use pens again and...ahaha, I 'decorated' my room! With more numbers. See, Davey, they didn't believe me Out There, but all my predictions came true! 9380626 seconds. So Davey, look! I predicted more numbers! Many more! Remember these? 12/2007. That was date, yes? That was when the street-which-has-walls fell, yes? Smallest numbers on my walls so far. I...do not know what they mean, dear brother, but they demand to be written! I predicted them, Davey, in...2004, yes? And now it is the 26th day of the 11th month of the 2-thousandth and 9th year. Oh. I missed the day of Giving Thanks, didn't I? Oh! Look, my loving brother! I have made new predictions! On the wall, I have written the next date, 11/2011, and numbers. 11,231.80 and -25.77! Little scribbled, but good. A-and next to it, same day, 2,441.51 and -18.57. Beautiful numbers, are they not? Hey. What are you writing in that note book? Davey? When will you be telling these doctors that Issaic is not crazy? That Issaic is genius! When will you bring me home where I can share beautiful numbers with world? Issaic...misses mother, Davey...

Visiting hours are up. David slips his notebook into his coat pocket and smiles at the security guard. The padded door barely making a sound as it closes behind him.
"How is he, Dave?"
"Crazy. Like always. I'll see you again next month, Tim. Oh, and one more thing..."
"Yeah?"
"Give him more pens, will ya? Breaks my heart to see my own flesh and blood so distraught."
And David walked out the Asylum door. Smiling.