Chapter 7
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. At first, I did not recognize my surroundings, but felt the cold stone on my back and I saw that the cracks in the one corner of the room remained. I turned to my left and saw Jeremiah still unconscious. I held his hand with my left and the yellow caked on paint that the natives had slathered on my arm appeared cracked and chipped. I sat up and used my old writing desk to pull me to my feet. My belongings were no longer here, but a child had left her toys. Two dolls rested on the spot where I used to write.
Jeremiah began to stir and before he could fully awake, I scraped off as much of the yellow paint from my left arm as I could. Blood flowed back into the arm, slowly, but I suspected time would be needed to undo the effect the Shaw
