An affectionate tribute to the late, great Jorge Luis Borges
The volunteer fools are locked in the infinite box and sent to find the Impossible Book
There are infinite rooms, each joined to the others by four doors.
Only one contains the book.
And the book contains everything there ever was, is, and ever will be.
The rest are as empty as the volunteers’ heads.
Most last a few days before they drop dead from thirst and hunger.
Their bodies are removed as if they never were.
And still they keep on coming, every year brings fresh new fools.
And the infinite box swallows them whole, a devouring careless thing.