The suffocating haze of the room didn’t inhibit her hands, confident due to familiarity, from finding the bottle on the night table. After swallowing two pills, dry, she lay back and counted to thirty, and then slowly opened her eyes. The fog receded, replaced with a blazing brightness. But it too faded, became soft, inviting, and she struggled up on her elbows.

Looking over the room, she saw a thin mist seeping out from under the bed. She’d have to hurry.  Throwing back the covers, her fingers brushed the orange plastic bottle, knocking it to the ground, where it disappeared.


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