As a very young child he was always picking up stones.
He would show them to his mother before putting them in a box he kept under his bed. That’s how it started. For him, the activity of collecting was as natural as any other hobby. The impulse to gather, to accumulate, had grown stronger, and far more powerful as the years passed. Now, having never married, living alone in a dilapidated cottage far away from the nearest neighbours. He had never questioned his growing passion; had never wondered whether his actions were based on enthusiasm or addiction, or even madness! No, no such self-reflection had ever entered his mind. The old building was exactly what he wanted. In fact, the basement was absolutely ideal.
The sturdy brick walls had taken the chains and cuffs without any trouble at all.