I heard a whistling sound. It was close by, and I heard it every time I heaved my feet so I knew that it was not the wind, but a sound coming from me.
This room is so cold, so dark. Ah, hadn't I lied upon this cold floor in this same way before? I closed my eyes with thought. Tears, blood, I know not which, ran down my cheeks.
A powerful wind blew in throufh the window.
I heard the pages of a diary on the desk flipping.
It was my diary.
A red-bound book in which everything about me was written. I could rememver all of ir, just as easily if it had only happened yesterday.
Though I'd never written in it, I knew what was said in that diary.
