Babaeng Kamatayan (Woman of Death)

I turn off the main light in my room. It’s time to sleep now. I reach for the lamp that stands on the corner of the wooden table near my bed and turn it on.

My magical work space

I write in a narrow table that faces the little window in my room. The position is perfect for me to look at the moon as it rises at night. I have a little angel lamp that provides a yellow light, the kind of color that soothes my so-called agitated mood.