I allowed myself to stay there, in that small house with two familiar people.
I intrinsically trusted that with them I would be safe from anything, and yet sometimes I found myself staring into the void beyond their lit fireplace, discovering myself trembling from head to toe. Everything, even the smallest shadow, startled me. Although upon returning from the sawmill I slept for twenty-seven straight hours, during the following two days I couldn’t sleep at all. I ate by inertia. I showered very quickly and spent dead hours in front of my laptop screen just watching the cursor blink in the word processor window (Luke had returned my suitcase to me, where the few things that had survived the explosion of my house were; the wolves had the good gesture of leaving my belongings there). I got l
