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THIRTY-SIX

VERA

It seems it is daytime once again, the gray light streaming in weakly through the gaps in Vera’s curtains, not enough to brighten the room, just enough to disturb her sleep. Vera turns, stares at the dribbly light for a bit. She has lost count of the number of times the room has turned dark, then light, then dark again. Now it is light, but it does not matter very much at all to Vera whether it is light or dark. She rolls over and closes her eyes once more.