The impending fulfillment, and what has already taken place, are two ends of the storm, with the black ship anchored—
...
Dai carefully sifted through a layer of firewood, underneath which were neatly placed three hard, gray-black loaves of bread. She carefully counted them, taking them out one by one with her little hands red from the cold, then gently brushed off the dust, as if afraid of losing even a single breadcrumb.
She then placed two of them back as they were, looked at the one in her hand, held it with both hands, bit her lip, and forcefully split it in two, quickly catching the falling crumbs with her little hands, and grasping them. She hesitated for a moment before putting the remaining half back, covering it again with firewood.
