She sets her alarm clock to a different time every night, absent-minded: tonight, one-oh-one. She pauses, thinks better of it and sets it for five-fifty-eight. Dinner eaten, teeth brushed, pajamas on, she makes her way to her desk and looks at the page. She sits in utter stillness, the only time in her day she can bring herself to.

Beneath the morning's message she writes

Today, I found what I was looking for.

Nodding sagaciously, she unties the ribbons in her hair, gently sets them aside on the desk and heads to sleep and dreams.

Every page says the same thing.