"Days passed without time. Dorie slept late into the mornings, the light disorienting her when she opened her eyes. She ate tiny morsels like rations, not speaking so words lost their meaning and the world abstracted. Books became her sustenance--immersing herself in their pages was a tonic for the despondency she felt about her separation from the real world.
She longed to sink her feet into the cool under-layer of sand, to feel the salt-sticky film on her skin after dipping into the water. Dorie reached for her coat and hat and stepped outside. Walking across the dunes to the beach, she felt as if awoken from a dream, released into a version of the world scrubbed clean, bright and pure. The green hat that Harriet had knitted hugged her head, spreading warmth through her slightly graying hair, each stitch touched by her daughter's fingers. Unbuttoning her coat, she invited in the chill of the late winter air. Endless days between November and February offered patches of sunlight like gifts, where warmth crept beneath layers of wool to reach the skin beneath. Dorie ran to where the waves stroked the sand, remembering just in time to remove her shoes before entering the water. Her feet tingled and fizzed. She stuffed her hat into a pocket lined with sand and a bleached bone like ivory that she'd forgotten was there. Splashing her face and hair re-awoke senses that had numbed, been forced dull. She longed to immerse her entire body in the sea, rinse herself of the muck that was a barrier between her and this new place.
As Dorie continued walking, the pale February sun dried the last remnants of sea water, and her skin tightened, her hair crusted and curled. She increased her pace until her breath deepened and her limbs loosened. Spring was around the corner, and she held her face up to the sun in anticipation."
(Excerpt from 'abstracted', shiny bits in between)