Closet Land

Can you remove my blindfold, please?

Can you remove my blindfold, please?

Not yet!

Where are you taking me?

- Where are you taking me? - Shut up!

Closet Land

Tell me if you need anything else. I'm leaving in 10 minutes.

Let me see... I think I have everything.

Where am I?

Here.

Who are you?

May I speak to the officer in charge, please?

I am the officer in charge.

Where are you?

Here. To your right.

And vice versa, your vices are my verses, and versa vice.

Remove my blindfold and these handcuffs, please.

I'm going to call my lawyer. I was dragged out of bed...

All right. Don't worry. We'll look into it.

I won't be needing you anymore.

I'm going straight to the sauna, there is nothing like it after this shit.

Bon nuit.

Where are you? Have you gone away, too?

I'm here, right by your side.

Did I scare you? Sorry.

Just a minute. I'll turn the lights on.

Let's get this blindfold off.

Why and when was I brought here?

Which day is it?

A next day. A night, actually.

I was brought here last night.

I think it was last night. Sometimes, it seems like...

...two nights back, two weeks even. - No.

They brought you here last night.

Are you the officer in charge?

They came to my house when I was in bed. One man held a gun to my head

and handcuffed me. The other blindfolded and gagged me.

They dragged me out of my own home.

On the way here, they slapped me, spat on me...

...pulled my hair, twisted my arms,

pinched my legs, and left me standing in a narrow cold room...

no bigger than a... ...a closet.

Given no warrant for my arrest.

I've been denied access to my lawyer, to anyone else outside.

Why am I here?

It says here that you're a writer of children's fiction.

Do you do any other kind of writing?

Like what?

- Political, for instance. - No.

- I'm really quite ignorant about politics. - Good.

I mean, it's better to have no ideas than half-baked ones.

Too, you're not a member of any underground group or anything?

No.

- Are your stories political? - I write for 7-year-olds and 8-year-olds!

So? Children make the best receptacles for propaganda.

"You can do anything with a child as long as you play with him."

- Who said that? - Bismarck.

This is ridiculous.

Well...

...maybe we made a mistake.

Doesn't happen often, but sometimes...

If they've had too much to drink, maybe they took a wrong turn.

"They took the wrong turn"?

My sincere apologies.

You may leave.

Maybe you should wait for the official apology.

What's that?

It's a letter from the head of this department, apologizing for our mistake.

How long will that take?

No time at all.

You interrogated me like a common criminal,

knowing full well you owed me an apology?!

It's procedure. We can never be too sure.

No, no, I insist. I'm used to this place.

I last saw you about two years ago, I think.

You were signing autographs at the Third Street bookstore. I forget what it is...

Sorry, but I'm really not in the mood for conversation.

You think your apology letter's enough?!

I'm going to press charge, against him especially.

You're going to press what, against whom?

I said that I...

I'm going to make a complaint against him.

The one that was here. Didn't get to see him, but I know his voice.

- What did it sound like? - A chocked gutter.

"Man with a voice...

...like a chocked gutter."

What did he do?

Did he rape you?

No.

He just fondled you? Is that it?

Yes.

That's strange.

None of our female prisoners have made that complaint.

Our men don't do that. They're strictly professional.

I'm not lying.

- I'm sure you're not, but maybe you imagined it. - No!

After one day in prison, you are ranting and

raving about having been here two weeks. Is it why you are

such a good writer? Imagination. - No, I have his nail-marks all over...

Can I see them?

Let a doctor examine me.

All right. Don't worry.

We'll look into it.

Some more broth?

It's got rum in it.

Warms you up, doesn't it?

Listen. How long will the letter be?

- What letter? - The apo...

- The apology letter. - Oh, that.

- You had it all along? - Yes.

- What game are you playing? - I'm not playing games.

- But you kept me here, waiting for it! - Now you're imagining things again!

You decided to wait. Didn't I tell you I had the letter?

This is a mess.

Drunken soldiers, hallucinating senior officers.

You really should watch what you're saying, you know.

Walls have ears.

Open the door!

I have the apology letter! Open up, please!

Might as well stay warm!

It could be a long time before you.

I must call my lawyer. I must call my lawyer.

What is that?

Why didn't you leave when you could?

You cannot call your lawyer or anyone else outside.

You must put your trust in us.

I am a small part of a large mechanism,

that goes for you, too, but together we may seek at the truth.

I will help you to the best of my ability,

but the brunt of the responsibility lies with you.

Deliberate deceit will not be tolerated,

although personally, I may find your lies charming.

Inadvertent blunders will be treated with firm kindness,

and you must trust me to decide the ratio of firmness to kindness.

Your best hope would be to depersonalize what follows,

and not to look upon me as a foe or yourself as a victim.

Remember, we are both seekers of truth,

and in this quest, I am your friend,

philosopher and guide.

"The Cow who Learned to Fly"

"The Treasure Trove"

"The Cat With Green Wings"

Heavy-duty political stuff, huh?

No, you're right. These stories are innocuous.

I told you you're making a terrible mistake.

No, that's not possible.

Are you infallible?

Not me, personally.

I'm going... Maybe I'm at fault, really. I'm not looking hard enough,

you can't have been arrested for nothing.

Are you going to concoct something to justify my arrest?

Closet Land

It hasn't been published yet, I'm still working on it. Where did you get this?

You had my home searched, didn't you?

- Tell me about it. - Why don't you read it?

It is interesting to hear writers talk about their work.

- Hidden meanings surface... - When you write for children,

you pretty much have to be direct, there's no room for hidden meanings.

Children are remarkably subtle creatures.

My stories are harmless, cheerful.

Pieces of fluff, they have no more depth than cotton candy.

Did you wreck my house?

Don't worry, it's fine.

They even cleaned your house before they left.

There was some blood on the toilet seat.

- Are you menstruating now? - None of your business!

Thought not.

You see?

It's easier if you answer my questions, isn't it?

You're in good health?

Do you have any physical condition I should know about?

Are you on any medication?

You answer my questions like a good little girl,

and I promise I'll never do that again.

Don't call me good little girl!

I'm still waiting for the artist to speak about her work.

Closet Land is about a child, who is locked in a closet all day by her mother.

Little girl fantasizes that the clothes are her imaginary friends.

They all have wonderful parties in this closet,

this child and her friends,

and it becomes a sunny meadow strewn

with wild strawberries and beautiful flowers.

When it's time for her mother to return from work,

the Friendly Rooster, which is actually a scarf with a rooster design,

warns the little girl and her friends by crowing loudly.

The clothes all go back to their hangers,

and the child sits, quiet as a mouse, waiting for her mother to let her out.

It's a curious story.

Very different from "The Flying Cow" and "The Cat With Green Wings."

Were you a lonely child?

- No brothers or sisters? - No, just my mother and me.

But your mother didn't pay you much attention.

Well, she didn't mean not to, she was just busy with her work

and her sunday literary groups.

You're still lonely, aren't you?

I don't trust lonely people.

Life's eternal spectators.

Watching.

Waiting.

- Were you afraid of your mother? - No.