future schlock

the reality of her life loomed over her like a dark shroud. she had spun her wheels forward, ending up in the same place. her surroundings were distinctly familiar, but were not, and never would be, hers.

she felt like hers was a borrowed life, that could be swept out from under her at any time. this disquiet would lay dormant for a while. but at the slightest provocation, rose, in an angry, frightened torrent.

she flitted from one moment to the next, palpitating at the mere hint of a sound. unable to find comfort, she kept moving, as if the motion might in some way lull her. it did not.