8:00 pm

For fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes staring at her and at the alarm clock on the night-table, her grip didn't loosen a bit.

"Can't sleep, Sleeping Beauty?"

"…No… It happens sometimes… You know, because of my decease."

"Oh, sorry," what else could I answer to that.

"…Wanna hear about it?"

"If it can help you."

"…Hardly could… When I couldn't sleep, I would lay my back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. It's funny how you can always face at a ceiling by just laying on your back. Anyway, I would watch, watch it like the sky and wait for the warm colors of dawn. Can you imagine dull hell without a clock nearby? Only the colors of dawn were proofs that time did flow by while I was paralyzed on the bed. I'd sense that second, then the other, I'd make the sum to which every minute amounted to. Why all this? Because I was born."

"The Trouble with Being Born. A girl like you shouldn't be reading that kinda book."

"…Cioran is a funny guy anyway."

"Is this any different from waiting for the colors of dawn?"

"…Your breathing is an enough proof of the flow of time to me," and she brought her hand on my chest before we giggled together.