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8

My throat was sore. Just the day before, she swallowed a cactus densely strewn with sharp needles that mercilessly tore the entire delicate mucous membrane of the pharynx. And all attempts to accumulate saliva in order to at least a little moisten and drown out the bad sensations were in vain. Even the stiff tongue did not want to move.

She rose from the bed, sleepily looking at the unfamiliar surroundings around her. And with quiet, apathetic discontent, she remembered where she was and how she got here. Now the only question troubling her was: where to get water?

After searching through the bedside tables and the empty mini-fridge on the windowsill, Leah went to the phone hanging on the wall. Next to it, on a large A4 sheet, was a printed table with the subtitle: “Daily routine.”

The very first point: “8:00 – Wake up” made me wince. For her, waking up so early is an unearthly torment. And for several months it will seem like hell. However, the line with breakfast appeared only an ho
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