Excerpt: The Condition of the Shadow

How did I get here? The question lingers as she stares up at the ceiling, the deep cracks forming a web down the walls, enveloping her in this cocoon just as deadly as if the spider had returned. A deathtrap. The cracks cover a greater instability than just the steel beams of a building. This is only the hurricane that came from the butterfly’s wings. The sheets are twisted around her legs and arms again as the nightmares make her slide sideways, from one hell to another. She feels safer in the dream; at least there she has a measure of control. In this waking nightmare, she can see movement that could be her bedfellow or the bugs that infest the rooms. Perhaps it is best not to know, but she slowly turns her head to the side.

The only light comes from the first rays of light signaling dawn. A cockroach slips over the end of the bed. Many years ago it would have made her scream, but now she closes her eyes and lets the light beat against the lids. She feels every ache in her muscles as the day brings awareness. Forty never used to feel this old, she is sure of it. Then again, rooms in motels used to have televisions that worked and bed sheets that were laundered. The locks on the doors protected you.

There is a stirring beside her as her companion awakens. She can hear him groan softly, the bed shifts as he raises an arm to his head. He does this each time and she can’t help but wonder why he sounds so surprised. It is as though he is expecting something different to greet his eyes.