Deep beneath the city, beneath the busy streets and the basements; beneath the foundations of office blocks and the electrical wiring and beneath the fiberglass communications cables; beneath the gargling rivers of sewage and deep below the panting subway lines, lives a tiny, velvet mole.
Unbeknownst to anyone, this mole is the main teacher of silence in the world.
As far as he’s concerned, however, his lecture hall is brimming over every day. His students are oh so eager to learn from him, shouting incomprehensible questions in just any language that springs to mind. This is something the mole likes. He appreciates enthusiasm. The mole loves questions, even if his answer is almost every time the same. Such, though, is a teacher’s fate.
The mole has never had occasion to doubt his professorial abilities. He has never seen any of his unwitting students not, in the end, just get it.
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