Disclaimer

The glass doors of the fitness center slide apart, letting a rush of over-conditioned air hit the August heat still clinging to my neck. I step inside. The lobby smells of rubber flooring, ozone, and citrus cleaner.

I haven't been here in weeks. I haven't swiped my membership card since the afternoon I tried to run on a treadmill and felt my chest tearing itself apart. The plastic card is slippery in my damp hand. I scan it at the turnstile. The desk attendant, a college kid wearing a tight black polo, doesn't even look at his monitor.

Chapter 2: I've Had Enough

I stared at the silver key, transfixed by the way it trembled in that impossibly pale, inhuman hand. The paper tag fluttered gently, as if moved by a breath I couldn’t feel, the words—First prize: Your Name—curling and uncurling in the lamplight’s glow. My pulse thudded in my ears, sweat slicking my palms, every instinct screaming that nothing good waited on the other side of this exchange.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Or something. Those who have followed this will know that I stuffed up a bit of chronology, in that Gemma's arrival happens here after the mass arrest, whereas it was the other way round. I will be amending the manuscript for publication, but not just now, as it will be a heavy job. What I am going to do is to write the rest of this in the right time sequence, so the next few chapters may be a little off compared to the earlier ones. To quote Hawkwind, 'Do Not Panic'

CHAPTER 51
That was really just like my god box in the flat: ‘pause’ had been pressed, on my life, but was it time to press ‘play’ once again? We stood shoulder to shoulder as the wind pushed the reeds this way and that, and Amina muttered something about work.

“Sorry?”

“This is sort of going to be my workplace, if I get the job I’m after”

The mirror at six in the morning, the bathroom light on, the city still dark beyond the window.

Practice Invisibly

Days 12-14

The next morning Mum was buttering toast while I stood beside the kitchen table in trainers and an old sweatshirt, arguing with Richard about something unimportant. I cannot remember what. I remember enjoying the shape of the argument itself - my voice raised just enough, Richard answering calmly like he knows everything so much better than me, Mum barely listening. Even then, arguing was still something Daniel did without having to think about how Daniel was supposed to do it.

“Wow, where did you get this little number?” Mona asked when she saw how she was dressed in bed.

“It was my mother’s gift for Victoria.”

“Well she must know that you and Victoria are having sex now.”

“Well, she did see us get married, so she might assume that.”

A TURN OF THE MOON
by
Jessica Drew

Day Eighteen
Good Boy

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, running a hand over my bare midriff. The blinds were still drawn and I was relying solely on the light from the skylight above. Even in the dimness of the bedroom, I could see how the black crop top and gym leggings clung to my body like a second skin.