(1) It was true that, for a spell, Greta stopped eating. Of course she drank plenty of water, but the idea of chewing and swallowing struck her the wrong way. She did not have a problem with her weight—this was nothing like that—so she ordered a number of nutritional shakes online.
There were many flavors to choose from, but she stuck with vanilla.

(2) During this time, Greta listened to music from her extensive record collection. She found herself playing Leonard Cohen, exclusively—as if the decision had been made for her—and then, feeling defiant, removed all but his music from the living room, placing her records in crates, which she stored in an empty closet.
This way, she intuited, whenever she heard Leonard Cohen, she would remember (like how smelling shampoo brought to mind childhood baths) this particular time of her life.

(3) Greta’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Fox, took notice, and brought over hot meals. Greta thanked them, and, to avoid causing a racket, made sure they visited after lunch or dinner.

(4) Often, she picked up objects and studied them, intently, only to find, the next day, that despite spending hours with a device, could not remember how many buttons informed her television’s remote control.
How the numbers and letters were arranged on her laptop.

(5) Once, while waiting for her abortion, Greta picked up a magazine—probably a National Geographic—and read an article about a people for whom pigeons were a delicacy. What struck her was the number of ways to prepare such a small, ordinary, bird. The journalist wrote about a number of dishes and how, during the course of a particularly tasty meal, he had coughed up a feather.
The natives told him this was a sign of good fortune.

(6) What Greta did was remove the food—homemade lasagna, spanakopita, et. cetera—from her mother’s Corningware, placed the meals on plates, used forks and knives to arrange the food in disposable Tupperware, and visited old Mrs. Waverly across the hall. Greta allowed the woman to invent the occasion for her dropping by.
They celebrated her birthday, Greta’s birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and, if her mother had prepared sole or cod, Good Friday (even if it was Tuesday).

(7) Greta realized how easy it was for a person to become forgotten. After the first two months following commencement no one—except for her parents—continued to call. At times she considered reaching out, even just a little, but there was no sense in playacting. She had spent four years in the open for all to see. (Many more than that, if you took primary and secondary school into account.) She needed a respite.
Agreeing to meet with Barbara was a mistake.

(8) Greta left the plates and silverware she used to prepare Mrs. Waverly’s food on the counter, near the sink.
She washed her mother’s Corningware, and placed the glass in the carrying case her mother used to transport the food across the city.

(9) Her friends from university probably considered her thoughtless.
A few probably confided in each other, calling her a bitch.

(10) Greta took her meals standing in front of the kitchen sink. Finished, she would rinse her can, and drop it in the recycling. Next, she would clean her straw, and place it in the drawer with the other utensils.
Finally, she took a glass of water to the sofa.

(11) Once, Greta stood with her mother in the Endwell Shopping Center’s Food Court. She felt a little thrill. Greta would show her. She marched into the candy shop. She looked at the fudge stacked in pyramids below the glass counter and pointed to the bars that she wanted and the girl said, “These?” while lifting the candy from their trays. The girl placed the fudge in a small white box. Then she tied a pink ribbon around the parcel.
Greta said that that was not necessary. The candy wasn’t a gift. Then the girl cut herself with a pair of scissors (she had been drawing the blade across the ends of the ribbon to make them coil). “Oops,” she said. Blood filled the girl’s cut and fell in large drops upon the glass display case. The girl put the finger in her mouth, and wiped up the blood with a cloth napkin. “What happened?” Mrs. Fox said, when Greta returned, empty-handed.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” Greta explained.

(12) She had other experiments.
Unscrewing the lid secured atop her favorite candle, Greta absently stroked the firm, silky wax, like she would a kitten. Later, she would walk around her apartment looking for something that felt similar. She never had success, but that was okay; for she had no expected outcome in mind.

(13) For hours she sat motionless on her chaise, looking out the window.
All she had to see was the sky. If she had been bored, would she not have moved on to some other occupation?

(14) Greta looked steadily at a french fry on Barbara’s plate and tried to picture herself eating the food.
She imagined the french fry from many angles, both in her hand and on the plate. (The french fry rested atop another, near the edge of the plate, by a glop of ketchup, and was the smallest in circumference.) Without moving, she got a sense of those sitting around them. They ate noisily, absent regard for anyone but themselves. A few covered their mouths while they spoke, but still. Covering your mouth while you spoke? Why not finish chewing and swallowing and then say what you had to say? At last the french fry disappeared.

(15) “Thank you for the tea, dear,” Mr. Fox said, diplomatically, “but it’s grown late. I think we’ll take our leave.”
“Oh, let me get that first,” her mother said, in no way passive-aggressively. She stepped into the kitchen, took the plate from Greta’s hand, and washed the dishes Greta had left in the sink for her mother to find.

(16) Had she not bathed daily she would have felt covered in dust.
Her slightest movements—even an awareness she was breathing—left her feeling utterly and hopelessly defined. Greta was not indifferent; she did not know what anything meant. At different points throughout the day she was not beyond raising a foot, though.
Or cracking her knuckles.

(17) Her new room has a window.
Her parents just left. She sees a bird on a wire hums, “And is this what you wanted, to live in a house that was haunted.”

(18) Today, Greta has little control over what happens.
Still, she is both cause and consequence, and she finds it very good. For example, she just now pushed the peas underneath the potatoes.