The light filtering in from the skylight kept her alive.
It was 1971, the year of war and the year of blackouts. At night, the window was covered with a black paper to avoid light filtering out. She longed to see the moon, but heard the drones of aircraft flying low. What if they dropped a bomb? She would see a last brilliant flash of light, before moving into eternal darkness.
Her soul was happy today, though she could not carry out physical acts like a hearty laugh. How silly was her vision then? How peaceful and bright is death….