Unnamed, Part I

It was raining, the drip, splat, trickle, tick tick tick ceaseless and soothing. Rolling over to look out the window she curled into herself, a reaction to thoughts she wasn't aware of. All she sensed was a despair she couldn't explain: the hint of a foul taste in the back of her throat; a shiver making its way up her legs, arms, neck; the smell of something vaguely unpleasant, maybe fruit left sitting out too long or a body that has missed a day of washing. Even echoes of the rain, her only companion, encouraged the sense of emptiness. Rain should make you feel better, she thought, gently filling up the hollowness and buoying you up.

She had a sudden craving to not only see and hear the rain but to feel it on her skin, in her hair, be enveloped in its coolness. Touch is stronger than other senses, she told herself. It will be real, one thing I can be sure of. Her feet touched the floor and she sat upright. The exhaustion ran through her belly and back and found its way into her organs, slowing her pulse and forcing her to sink even deeper into her thoughts. They ran through her head, unstoppable and seemingly independent of the brain that created them. Placing her hands flat on the bed on either side of her body, she pushed up slowly, rising until she was finally  able to stretch her legs beneath her and make her way to the door.
Peering down the dim hallway she watched for the movement of shadows, any slight motion that might betray a furtive form sneaking along the wall. Minutes passed, an unknowable number as time was fading, becoming more abstract than it had been before. Before? she thought. Before what? But she couldn't remember and gave up trying as she noticed the hallway stretching a long distance away from her. It would be difficult to travel down it without being seen, especially with her weakened legs and the tiredness pumping from her heart. Her throat tightened as she took one step into the hall. A feeling of deja vu whispered through her, you've done this before, four, more, pour, sore, tore, shore, shush sh sh. Slowly she emerged from the mist she imagined around her, expecting to be standing at the ocean's edge and instead seeing a long shore of carpet. Another step and her feet were pressing two footprints into the floor, another and there were three, another and four, five, six. Seconds sped by as she carefully lifted one foot and then the other, swaying side to side in a rocking motion that soothed her and fell into the rhythm of the rain.