faint background hum of a refrigerator. A light
    clicks on, briefly, then snaps off again.

    Then on again, for a little longer.

    We wake groggily with JACK (five), blinking up at MA (26).
    She's standing in a worn t-shirt and underwear beside a lamp,
    switching it on and off at apparently random intervals. She
    cranes up at the recessed skylight, Room's only window.

    The irregular flashes of lamp-light reveal glimpses of this
    little world lined with cork: t