When Karelos woke up that morning, part of her seemed to have drifted away like a helium balloon. She turned and stared at the empty place beside her. She didn’t remember if someone had spent the night. She didn’t remember last night at all. Not that it mattered. Days and nights blended into one another like some hideous painting. People were all interchangeable. Some days this state of affairs worried her more than others, but it was getting harder to care. Lately Karelos felt like the only thing that mattered was her dog, and even he didn’t belong to her, not really. Hadn’t he been a gift?
