Page 19, Paragraph 5 (first paragraph after the first break):
Dark. Many little thoughts. Cold. My leg burns and oh. Oh, I. Darkness. Nothing. My leg hurts, oh. Oh, Mother. I'm only ten years old. Dark. Dark, my belly hurts and it's cold. Mother and I walk beneath the trees; we walk strangely because she only has one leg and I only have one leg; our stumps are all bloody. Dark. Dark, cold, and nothing in my belly. Flowers. Dark.
Light. I smell... light, through my eyelids. I smell flowers and... open. I open my eyes and... flowers, and I look up at...
She looks at me - the girl that smells like flowers. She sits on her knees by we, as I lay with my back on the grass in a thicket of trees. There's a grey bowl in her hands, like the one she held the river water in. Her long, bright hair prickles my belly, and we look at each other like this, and I can't think of anything to say.