Wind howled. The stars. It was all stars, rushing past like motes of dust in the afternoon sun.
Should’ve vacuumed. Forgot the dishes.
Swift. Slipping. Galaxies collapsing.
She turned, the air rushing past her, the ground coming closer. Ever closer. Blackness, rushing up. Seconds. A heartbeat in her ears.
The stars vanished in a blip. She sucked in a breath and hit solid ground.
…
She sat in the car, staring through the windscreen at the brick house. She shook herself. What am I doing? Right, I’m in the car. Keys. Where are my… Oh, there. In the cup holder. She picked them up. Oddly silent. Didn’t keys jingle? Ah, there it was. They jinged. She fumbled a bit for the lock, then turned the ignition.
Sputter. More of a spit. Pitiful, the gasping breath of a car past its prime. Prime. Like you prime the engine? No, that wasn’t quite right. But she needed to get to work. She turned the key again.
This time, the car rumbled awake. The radio. She’d forgotten the volume, blasted at full. The radio announcer joking about the weather. Always the weather. “We’ll be having more rain, looks like,” said the voice.
She glanced out the window. Big wet droplets spattered against the glass, then spewed out in wheezing lungfuls. Had it been raining? She could’ve sworn it was sunny a moment ago. But, no, this was Wales. There was no sun.
She pulled the car into reverse.