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Translated from the German by Mary Tannert She tried to thread her thoughts neatly. But every thread she imagined slipped past the tiny eye of the needle that the present had become. What was she doing here in this lofty room with its vaulted ceiling? Where was “here,” and when? Let go, she thought. I have to let go to find an anchor. Blinking, she concentrated on the magnificent glass window behind the altar. The church. Of course! She was sitting in the church. The empty rows of pews before her were made of old wood, with holders for real