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The extract for today was difficult to choose, but I’ve settled on this one. It’s only short, but enjoy!

In the end, Nastasie had not gone through the crack in the fireplace.
She had instead, sat, and stared at it, and deliberated until her choice was made for her. With the same pained creaking noise, the – were they doors? – had slid back together, with only a draft to show that they’d ever been open, that they even existed.
And then she stood up, and, in a rather wobbly manner, made her way up to bed.
And that was all.