The bright morning light was coming in through the window, shining straight on the face of the sleeping girl. Rebecca could ascertain that someone had been in the room and pulled the curtains aside, suspecting her mother immediately. From outside the glee twittering of birds could be heard and if you concentrated really hard you could make out that there were only two birds that so perfectly and beautifully supplemented each other.
Rebecca concluded that the clock must be nineish considering that the sunlight already had reached her face. She let her hand ran over the things on the bedside table. She found a knitting yarn with needles stuck through it, a radio, a book, an iPod and finally she came to the clock. She pressed the button and a soft woman´s voice announced that the clock was “eight fifty”.
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