"Of course it is changing colour," she thought, "why should it not?" She almost knew what colour it was too, she just could not remember the name of it. It was similar to the colour of the jacket she had worn the night she was brought to them. They had not let her keep it, of course, they had called the colour "tacky" and made her give it up, but the thought of it had stopped her crying many times. When they used their grey words to mold her into one of them, her memory of a colour that must have come from Somewhere Else made it easier to bow her head.

And then she stopped falling. She did not exactly hit any ground that let her know she had stopped, but she could tell. She remembered how to open her eyes and looked around her. It was clear that she was in the middle of something, wether it be jelly water or just space. She tried to feel if there was any resistance beneath her, but felt nothing. There simply was nothing around to indicate why she had stopped.