Wednesday, April 20 (90 days)
Minerva keeps asking me. I tell her I can’t talk about it yet. I know I’ve told Magdalena, but somehow telling Minerva is different. She’ll make some protest out of it. And I don’t want people to know.
Minerva says, Write it down, that’ll help, Mate.
I’ll try, I tell her. Give me a few more days.
Tuesday, April 26 (96 days)
Minerva has excused me from the Little School today so I can write this.
Here is my story of what happened in La 40 on Monday, April 11th.
[pages torn out]
Saturday, April 30 (100 days)
After you lose your fear, the hardest thing here is the lack of beauty.
There’s no music to listen to, no good smells, ever, nothing pretty to look at.
Even faces that would normally be pretty like Kiki’s or beautiful like Minerva’s have lost their glow. You don’t even want to look at yourself, afraid what you’ll see. The little pocket mirror Dedé sent is kept in our hiding place for anyone who wants a look. A couple of times, I’ve dug it up, not on account of vanity, but to make sure I am still here, I haven’t disappeared.
Wednesday, May 25 (125 days—1,826 days to go—Oh God!)
I have not been able to write for a while. My heart just hasn’t been in it.