Deborah looked around the cluttered office. For the members of the world, sunlight was streaming through the windows, but its goldenness and warmth were only there for her to perceive at a distance. The air around her was still cold and dark. It was this eternal estrangement, not fire against her flesh (blogger note: Deborah was burning cigarettes on herself as a way to deal with the mass of hurt and emotion that she had pushed down inside herself), that was the agony. p. 174.
MY THOUGHTS I can relate to what Deborah is experiencing here because I have cut myself off from the world, retreated into myself to protect myself, and long to connect fully with the world again.
