Someone had fired 50,000 volts into her. In her mind, those zeros stared back at her like screaming mouths. The hot water pipes kicked in around 4am, vigorously hissing and belching into action, cracking and banging, before settling down to a quiet hum. Minnie pictured an old motel monster waking up, cracking his bones as he stretched into shape.The person in the room above had shuffled back and forth to the bathroom all night. Sad footsteps attempting to distribute the weight of the world on just two shoulders. Insomnia throwing a leash about the person’s neck and leading them back and forth.Minnie was struggling with orientation. She liked to lie on her left side but San Francisco seemed to be spinning on a different axis. She couldn’t work out which way the room was facing – the door, the window and the wardrobe. Then she would drift off to sleep and awaken, convinced she was back in her bed in London. Furthermore, she was all too aware of people sleeping either side of her room, only separated from her by thin walls; their dreams drifting uninvited into her own.
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