The golden beams of the rising sun slowly flooded my compartment through the naked window, which I forgot to close last night, thanks to the rage caused by that evil guard. Timidly, as if afraid, the warm fingers of the just risen sun stretched, reaching my face with an attempt to chase away sleep. There, on the dressing table, I sat with my shoulders slouching while watching my nose turn red shortly after wiping mucus. My fingers were slightly quivering as they ran through my hair, trying to keep it even so they could tie a ponytail. Before I could curl the ribbon around my hair, my nostrils squeezed, urging me to sneeze. Once, twice, and thrice, I sneezed as if my life depended on it. Once again, and this time the result left my hair looking messy, completely discouraging me from making another effort to tie a ponytail. Giving up, finally, I stood from the chair and off to my bed, where I unceremoniously threw myself, hope driving itself out of my system. It was ten am, and Miss
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