She stands still in the middle of a box room.
She stands and then moves, she is looking through the familiar shape [...] to find out where
she was.
Not an obvious place. And then, screams (high pitch noisy screams).
It is a trap, obviously.
Shut up, you idiot! Think!
Go back to sleep, soon the wind will lead you where you belong.
She says (in a hideous American voice): “It is cold and humid and I don’t like it, please let me
But, where you want to go?
You don’t want to know where you are, you are in fact, trying to leave it behind, sadly, you
have forgotten.
She swipes, she swipes, she touches but nothing happens no more.
That is the past, no exit to the past.
She finally sings herself a lullaby, not that she knows one.