The days went by, all the same or all mostly the same. And what worried her from time to time was not so much that she had accepted it, but that she had long ago stopped wanting anything else. But more and more the worry was quiet, and there was eating, sleeping, and simply waiting for when it would stop. When things were so quiet in her room that the air seemed to hiss with silence, she imagined everything overlaid with a sort of white noise, gently gathering in on her from the edges until the day she became it.
choose your own