You can’t feel this way for so long and still be living. It can’t be real. It’s a dream. I’ll wake up. Wake up. Please wake up. Once again I’m cowering in a dark place, in fear for my life. Peering over the incomplete counter I’ve ducked behind, I make out a half-finished parking garage, rusted girders sticking out of concrete columns, warped and battered scaffolding jacks holding up the ceiling. A wide sweeping arc of shopfronts funnelling into a food court. I’m holed up in what would have been a restaurant with a romantic view over the parking lot. Rhoda scoots next to me. For about ten seconds, I’d forgotten about her. It was a relief. I don’t want to be doing this with her. I want her out of my nightmare. I want to go home. But she’s trailing me like a rabid dog. As long as she’s here it’s impossible to fool myself. ‘What the fuck are you doing running like that?’ she pants.
