What could get wrong after this? Yet pretty well everything does. The red eye on her answering machine is angrily blinking when she comes home. She shrinks away from her obligations. Messages are the shards of her previous existence that mustn’t be glued together under the danger of death.
She gets weary of doing again and again what is expected from her. Why should she? The mere thought about sharing her life with Alex makes her sick. She is also done with writing this fatally born-dead story she started in Prague when put in the clink of the Iron Curtain whose phantom people will never ignite into real beings. She falls onto her bed, her face down. Departing from the here and now her life dissolves into a dream.