Wait.

Inga turned her chin back upwards and closed her eyes. Surely, she was not left here unattended. Surely, someone was to come and explain her situation, whatever it might be. No matter how long it takes, she will wait for it and do nothing else in the meantime.

Absolutely. Nothing. Else.

Inga tried to go right back to sleep, but it was clear that she did not need any, even if insistently suggested. She tried to somehow squeeze more visual information from what she could see from here, but the world around her was calling for interaction.

Yet she waited. Something had to happen. Anything. Anyone. If this place was so clean and well ventilated, someone had to be cleaning the dust. She was willing to see the dust cover this shelf. The air was rather cool in there, so she had to do some exercises once in a while.

Reluctantly, she looked at the clock on the shelf. It was not moving. The time could as well be stopped or slowed especially for her, as a means to make her move! The less facts Inga was receiving, the more assumptions were taking their vague shapes. What if this was a 10x10 room, and the rest was perspective-adjusted projections? What if she was **** by space aliens? What if, despite all of her pinching and slapping herself, she was still asleep and none of this was real?

Meanwhile, something she did not anticipate being a factor was slowly becoming a factor. No matter how many exercising Inga did, the cold was creeping up to her, and there was no hiding from it. She needed to get out of here, or she needed to find some warm clothes. Actually, any clothes would be better than the absolutely nothing she was wearing now.

She did push it till the very end. She was trembling from the cold non-stop now, and staying put any longer would be impossible, especially with nothing promising an increase in activity in the area.