She opened the letter in complete silence. The snow outside muted the distractions of the road. Even the children running in the school playground next door became inaudible. Or perhaps the first words of the letter left nothing in her mind but the sound of her own respiration.
It was the beginning of an ordinary day. She wore yesterday’s clothes, a pastel blue shirt over a brown ample skirt. She always made sure her hair was tidy so like every other day, she put it up, and tied it with a ribbon matching the colour of her attire.
She had picked up the envelope from the entrance floor, where it had been slipped under the door. She couldn’t recognize the handwriting and therefore felt unsure of its provenance.
A white glimmer covered her face as she approached the window from where light infused the back of the living room. Holding the piece of paper with both her hands, she opened her mouth to take a deep breath.
The intoxication was immediate, she needed air.