Thousand: Six Hundred Sixty-Seven

blundered past in the dark. Then back to the dorms. Then shed this uniform and get the civvies out of the box. Then call a cab. And shake the dust of this place off my sandals. Nudge, tug, lean against, tap. The wall is made of panels, any one of which could be a door, and she continues to test each, even as she becomes more certain the way out is the way she came. She feels much more confident with light in her hands. So she’s concentrating less on the door search, her testing cursory. She glances back at