In just a few hours, the light would be coming from the window, and not from the lamp above her head.
The median nerve in her left hand was slowly and steady trying to break her spirit as it went seemingly pulsing through the carpal tunnel. That was unacceptable. Her lower back was in the same quest, to stop her from this madness.
It was the third time she tried that. The last two times the result was the same…
Started with: AGGTCATTAAGATGA… it ended with a very proper AAAAAAAA… A silent scream embedded in her own genetic code. She was now finishing it, for the third time. Or maybe second.
The first one she read. It could not be it. So she typed pages and pages of a virtual document. Could I be wrong one more time?
Decided to punish herself, by writing it down by hand. The very own code that made her hold the Gelly Roll with the left hand. The letters responsible for her celiac disease.
They had nothing to do with the people outside her room. They were completely genomically strangers…