After breakfast, Dennise awoke from her nap in the afternoon.
The sun shone on her body through the curtain, not scorching hot, only a warm and toasty feeling, yet the light was dazzling.
Dennise clutched the thin quilt with both hands and tugged it up slightly, curling down as she made her last struggle.
Gurgle~
Gurgle gurgle~
The sound from her stomach forced Dennise to face reality.
It was hungry.
Why did the dead still need to eat?
And even more than before?
Dennise didn't know.
It simply followed the commands of its stomach, and after struggling to climb out of bed, staggered toward the washroom.
Standing in front of the mirror with fluffy, tousled hair and several stubborn strands sticking up, Dennise brushed her teeth with her eyes closed.
Scrub scrub scrub.
Gurgle gurgle.
Ptui.
Then, she splashed her face with water, gushing down.