Chapter 2

Not again, she thinks to herself.

And then the stairwell begins to lose its composition.

Damn she says. It's early. 

She grips the balustrade, knowing that it's useless. In the realisation, grips harder and closes her eyes. 

This, at least, is helpful. The visual experience was harrowing the first time. It still is, but at least this time it is somewhat expected and 'normal'.

Remembers the first time, it must have been 3 months ago now. Was sitting at a cafe in her home town, the smell of fresh waffles thick in the morning air, mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Ethiopian, she knows. Pip and Pup was a weird name, but the coffee was to die for.

The light has been different, that morning, and she wonders how it might have been different if she had not needed to use the bathroom at Pip and Pups. 

She had walked down the passage past the kitchen, and the passage seem to stretch out and bend to the right. Even though she had screamed loud, no one paid any attention. The walls began to fold and dissolve, and she grabbed tight to the railing running along the passage. It dissolved in her hands like ice melting into water, except it was not wet or cold. It just had solid form and then it was liquid.

She had kept her eyes open, that first time, as if trying to steer the movement. Or trying to remember her way home. 

The spinning sensation was not so intense, but the visual perception of walls and roofs shimmering and seemingly flowing like a circuit of binary codes, and then feeling the solid matter dissolving in her hands. She had been sick then, a warm watery expulsion from her stomach; waffles, 2 coffees and some table water.

Tasted better the first time, she smiles with grim back humour. And then closing her eyes, sleep like, only to awaken with a bright light shining into her face. 

Notices that the place is different, lighter, sky warm and blue. Wondering if she has been dreaming, and then the car outside sounds thick and more throaty like an angry cat with a blocked nose. Confusion arrives on her, and the car is gone.

Thank God, she says.

Notices movement in the room. 

'Well hello sleepyhead', says a voice. 

An old fashioned doctor comes into view. 

White coat, stethoscope slung around neck and a whisp of grey hair. 

She smiles, and then winces.

It hurts, she says, and falls back into sleep.