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1 She stares at a spiderweb of light just below the window.
2 The internet describes her condition as malaise (or is it ennui?).
3 She can’t remember the last time she’s finished a book.
4 From time to time, an ISBN number will come to her: One Hundred Years of Solitude.
5 But most days, loneliness chews holes in her sweaters. Why does she feel this old?
6 She brackets her memory lapses. The word will come to her [….].
7 A moth beats against the glass.
8 I know exactly how you feel, she whispers to the shadows.