A Thousand Days Like Sunday

The distance to the end of the cobbled lane was nothing much, maybe three hundred metres. Hannah's legs were beginning to buckle. She had been running like a lunatic for the past five minutes and the pain of such strenuous exertions had started to overwhelm all other feelings. It had even overcome the soul draining fear she had felt as she strolled down the street just a short time earlier. She was about to throw up for the second time in as many minutes. The first time had been the result of a random thought connecting with a scene in the street and leading to a sudden and gut wrenching sense of terror. She suddenly realised that she had been in a trance for the past half hour and had no recollection of leaving the house. The first thought was "Not Again!!", followed very quickly by blind panic. The world started to warp and rotate around her. Several people stopped to ask her if she was alright but she brushed them aside and staggered off towards an alleyway to relieve herself of her lunch. Then the adrenalin kicked in and she found herself running faster than she believed possible. Her ungainly lope had doubtless turned a multitude of heads but it wasn't until she was in sight of the flat that everything started to turn to lead. Her feet, legs, arms, head.......all felt like they were being subjected to three times the normal force of gravity. She retched and gagged, one hand on the left hand wall of the lane. Nothing came up but the foul acid stench of bile. She convulsed uncontrollably, this time from physical exhaustion rather than mortal fear. Hannah's sincerest desire at that moment was to die. Her body did the best it could to oblige but she merely blacked out for a few minutes. She came to and got to her feet before wobbling weakly to the end of the lane. She stood outside the red double doors of the flat and wondered what would meet her on the other side. Her two year old son was sitting contentedly in the green bean bag in the corner of the living room, thoughtfully chewing the edges of a red stickle brick. She stared at him like he was from another planet. He glanced up at her and gave her a look that seemed to her at least both forgiving and admonishing. She slumped in front of him and removed the red plastic brick from his mouth. He gave it up with little resistance and happily exchanged the tasty morsel for the arms of his mother. She walked around the house continuously with the boy in her arms until they began to ache with his weight and her own exhaustion, at which point she plonked him back in the bean bag and sat ashen faced in the couch opposite. She called her mother and asked her to babysit. She hated giving her mother any more control over her life than was needed, but somehow that all came a distant second to getting herself the longest nights sleep she'd ever had.