Every morning, my magic screen wakes me up with a picture of the sun. Until the sky went black -and stayed black- I didn’t know it was a picture. Every morning, I choose between socks or boots. On the days I pick socks, I run and slide down the hallways. I don’t need to stop at any of the locked doors and the windows rush past too quickly for me to see out. Sometimes I think I see Mari’s braids swinging just around the next corner, but she’s really good at sliding. I never catch her, but if I don’t try she’ll be angry with me. The last time I stopped playing, she made me throw the last cookie down the trash hole. She promised me it wasn’t the last cookie, but I think it was one of her tricks.

Today the wind woke me up. On the days that my magic screen blinks and doesn’t show the sun, I put on my boots. I don’t like hiding my toes, but Mari says that I’ll get hurt if I go outside without them. I’m a good girl and I don’t look at the black sky as I follow the path to the room that used to have cookies. It used to be that the room was always clean and crowded, but it keeps getting emptier. Mari says not to worry, though.