It had been approximately twenty-two weeks since Johann had left his room, to the dismay of absolutely no one around him. In fact, even those not around him, those in the general public, the masses, as you might say, were completely unmoved by his anti-social feat. Seemingly no one had took note of Johann’s disappearance besides Johann himself, and yet to Johann and to Johann himself, his recoil from the outside, his so-called “disappearance” was experienced, rather as an appearance of something wholly new, a debut of sorts, an entrance into a new world. It had helped immensely that Johann had already possessed a room before his vanishing; he stalked its rectangular limits regularly from childhood and had developed the most keen mental map of the room. Johann, in the many folds of his brain, had formulated a perfect three-dimensional representation of the location of every corner of the room. In his mind’s eye he saw corner one, located to the left of corner two and directly above corner four, then corner two, to the right of corner one and above corner three, and then corner three, below corner two and to the right of corner four, and then corner four, diagonal from corner two, below corner one, and to the left of corner three. It was with this perfect, platonic representation of his environs that Johann had shed his mortal coils since he knew exactly where to place them (conically spiraled in corner three), and it was with this very same knowledge that Johann had set about traversing his room.
Not unlike an ocean, a room such as his—twenty square meters in size—represents a difficulty, a challenge, something to be overcome—at least, to the layman. Johann instead understood his room as an extension of his self, for what were these corners if not coordinates in his mind; what were these coordinates if not corners, and so on and so on. Johann knew the space before him presented him again and again with empty air, that is to say, with water, and, very quickly, Johann found himself drowning therein. Thus, if it were not for those four eternal corners, he’d be stuck forever at the bottom of his floor, somewhere between the oriental rug and a dirty sock, nearer to whichever of the two Neptune chose to keep him; and yet, it was in his ingenuity, in his incredulity, that Johann fashioned a ship.