“You must have a nap today,” the woman says. “I can hardly wake you each morning, you’re sleepy all day.”
After lunch, she sends me to my room. I climb under the large bureau, place my throat over the stretcher, and wait for the executioner. As I wait, I suck my thumb and rub my private area. My Friend strokes comfort into my back.
“When will the executioner come?” I whisper. The executioner will chop off my head.