The calm morning light was seeping in through the sheer white curtains. She opened her eyes, slowly, hoping to see the familiar bookshelf, the computer table and the calendar and the clock on the wall.
None of the diffused familiarity met her myopic eye. The dominant colour in this room was white: the floor, the doors, the curtains, the bed-sheets. For a moment she thought she was inside a hospital. Then the train journey dawned on her mind – the endless green fields, the sparse, tall, grassy mountains, and the occasional railway station.
Her breathing stilled. Her body tensed. She felt as if her heart had been put inside a stone cage and it was throbbing for lack of space.
The tears threatened, but they’d have to wait. There were calls to make, assurances to give and way, way too many days to pass like this.
The count had only begun.