Behind the curtain she waited. Tick tick, went the clock on the wall that stands on its own. There she waited, waiting for the other side of the curtain to spin into vision. 'he brought me here, he put me here!' she thought, but who is he, the only memories of him are his voice, and the hands he controlled. She wishes she could remember.
She has time to think here, time recorded by the clock on the wall that stands on its own. Tick tick, she looks up at the chandelier, who's glass does not hang, but is suspended mid-air, facing towards the only source of light. 'I used to think that was unusual', tick tick, 'I must be going insane', tick tic