do?’ she shouted at the nurse.
‘Just my job.’
Veronika started calling to Zedka, shouting, threatening that she would go to the police, the press, the human rights organisations.
‘Calm down. You may be in a mental hospital, but you still have to abide by certain rules.’
She saw that the man was utterly serious and she was afraid. But since she had nothing to lose, she went on shouting.
From where she was, Zedka could see the ward and the beds, all empty except for one, to which her body was strapped, and beside which a girl was standing, staring in horror. The girl didn’t know that the person in the bed was still alive with all her biological functions working perfectly, but that her soul was flying, almost touching the ceiling, experiencing a sense of profound peace.
Zedka was making an astral journey, something that had been a surprise during her first experience of insulin shock. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, she was only there to be cured of depression and, as soon as she was in a fit state, she hoped to leave that place for ever. If she started telling them that she had left her body, they would think she was madder than when she had entered Villete. However, as soon as she had returned to her body, she began reading up on both subjects: insulin shock and that strange feeling of floating in space.
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