These days.
She doesn't eat much these days. It's been that way for a few months now. She's been eating a little less with every week that passes.
She's started to get on her feet. She's bought a couple items of clothing that weren't from thrift stores, even. They were really cheap, but still. The after-Christmas sales were good for that.
Christmas was a big deal at home.
Here, it only makes her angry, it seems. Everything does, these days. Everything makes her angry, or sad. And that makes her angry, too, because she's always prided herself on her ability to be positive, to bounce back. But she can't seem to be any other way.
Orlando got her a gift. She found it, figured out what it was -- a telescope.
She uses it once, to stare up at the moon, when it's full, or near to it, on Christmas. There's nothing, only the dead grey expanse, and even though most of what there was was underground, she had heard that things were still visible from Earth.
She should thank him, she knows, and she sends him a note, and tries to remember to buy him something, as well.
But she doesn't use the telescope again. After that first night, she cries, puts the telescope away and cries until she's coughing and hiccuping. Then she gets angry at herself, and at last, she opens a couple of beers.
She doesn't get drunk, a couple of bottles of beer aren't nearly enough to do that for her. She falls asleep, sober and angry, her eyes hurting from crying.
She's started to get on her feet. She's bought a couple items of clothing that weren't from thrift stores, even. They were really cheap, but still. The after-Christmas sales were good for that.
Christmas was a big deal at home.
Here, it only makes her angry, it seems. Everything does, these days. Everything makes her angry, or sad. And that makes her angry, too, because she's always prided herself on her ability to be positive, to bounce back. But she can't seem to be any other way.
Orlando got her a gift. She found it, figured out what it was -- a telescope.
She uses it once, to stare up at the moon, when it's full, or near to it, on Christmas. There's nothing, only the dead grey expanse, and even though most of what there was was underground, she had heard that things were still visible from Earth.
She should thank him, she knows, and she sends him a note, and tries to remember to buy him something, as well.
But she doesn't use the telescope again. After that first night, she cries, puts the telescope away and cries until she's coughing and hiccuping. Then she gets angry at herself, and at last, she opens a couple of beers.
She doesn't get drunk, a couple of bottles of beer aren't nearly enough to do that for her. She falls asleep, sober and angry, her eyes hurting from crying.