light
It doesn't get dark anymore. The sky over the courtyard goes dark blue around midnight and stays like that, and then the sun comes up at a quarter past four. The birch is full of birds who think it's morning all night.
Hedda bought blackout curtains for both rooms. They help a bit. I still can't sleep.
The course is over. I have nothing to do until August except pack, and I haven't packed anything.
The sheet came off the mirror when Mamma stayed, because she thought it was weird, and it never went back up. Mostly the reflection is fine now. Mostly it's on time.
Sometimes it's early.
I keep thinking that I should do Caputo's thing properly, once, with a timer and the lamp and everything. Ten minutes, like the study. Then I'd know it's only the illusion and I could stop thinking about it.