Photo Source: Unsplash Muriel is dead.   Mikhail examined the progress the shaft of light he'd been sleeping in had made across the room as he opened his eyes. Muriel is dead , he thought once more. He didn't know why or how he knew this, nor did he question it. No more than he knew why one breath followed the next. It simply was so.   He rose, arched, stretched, and began to walk towards the window, luxuriating in the warmth of the sunbeam and watching the falling dust particles as he...