The cool morning sunlight silently creeps through the window, slicing the room into a silent tableau of light and shadow.
Inanna was already awake.
She curled up at the head of the bed, her chin gently leaning on her knees, her arms wrapped around her shins, like a young beast trying to guard itself.
She was still savoring the fragments of last night's dream: a grand ball, a cold touch, and the hollow under the pink hair that made her heart pound.
The Pukis surged forward one after another, separating her from the woman, completely blocking the door.
The whole dream ended like a play with a strong start but a weak finish, amid chaos.
Inanna didn't understand. Although her memory of her mother was already blurred, in her impression, her mother was a gentle presence who would call her to the bedside and gently stroke her hair when she cried.
Why did the mother in the dream become so frightening?
