It disappeared. I could tell from the way my boyfriend spoke of her that his wife wasn't the kind of person who'd do something like this. She was an extremely gentle person.

I was much too tired. My thoughts kept changing directions, heading one way and then circling back, like someone wandering around outside at dusk, no destination in mind.

No doubt I myself am the enemy.

I felt the truth of this as my consciousness faded. Sleep slid around me like silk, slowly strangling me, sucking away my life. Then . . . blackout.

Several rimes I heard the phone ringing in my sleep.

The calls were from him.

The room was steeped in gray the next time I awoke. I held up my hand and looked at it, and saw that its outline was vague and dark. A thought rose weakly through my vacant mind. It's evening already.

Of course the drone of the washing machine had stopped by then, the apartment was completely still. My head ached, my whole body was stiff, all my joints were sore. The hands on the clock pointed to five. I was extremely hungry. I can eat one of the oranges in the fridge, or that pudding, I think there was some pudding. . . . I climbed out of bed and put on some of the clothes that were lying scattered on the floor.

It was very, very quiet. It was so quiet it felt like I was the only person left alive on earth. That feeling was so strange I can't even begin to describe it. Then when I flicked on the lights and glanced outside the window, when I saw the paper boy putting newspapers in the mailboxes, and saw that there were no lights on in any of the surrounding buildings, and that the sky to the east was orange . . . suddenly I understood.

“It's—but it's five in the morning!” I cried.

My voice sounded stale. I was afraid, seriously afraid. How many times had the hands circled the clock? What day was it? And what month? I hurried out of my apartment and down the stairs, feeling like I was trapped in a nightmare, then took the newspaper out of my box and unfolded it. Relief flooded me. It's all right—I've only slept one night. Yet there was no denying that I'd slept for an unusually long time. I had the sense that my whole body was slightly out of tune. I felt dizzy. The dawning blue had crept into town now, the beams of the street lamps had turned transparent. The very thought of returning to my room frightened me so much that I couldn't think of what to do. I know I'll only fall asleep again, and I'd rather wait until I'm so desperate I no longer care. I felt like I had nowhere to go.

And so I just walked outside.