The letters dipped and looped: she was sure that A towards the end of the line was deliberately doing cartwheels.
She cracked the window open, then thrust it wide. She closed her eyes, hoping for an in-rush of cool, rain scented air. She got a slightly soupy breeze with a faint tang of exhaust fumes. She wrinkled her nose and plopped down in her office chair.
Nothing was quite right here. She’d thought moving to the city would lift her spirits a bit: that the feeling of being in a huge, bustling space would be refreshing. Something to get rid of that itch, somewhere deep inside. It just felt lonely. And right now, hot. Very hot. She pushed sweaty hair away from her face and irritably shunted herself back to the desk. She’d left the report this late in the hope she could work better at night. Turns out, it was no cooler and no quieter. She’d feel awful tomorrow and there would be nothing to show for it. More fool her.
She stared at the screen, her eyes itching like they were full of sand. The letters dipped and looped: she was sure that A towards the end of the line was deliberately doing cartwheels. She reached out and slapped the laptop lid shut. This was no good. She lurched to her feet and stretched her arms high above her head. At home, she’d go down to the bottom of the garden and indulge in a good long scream to get all her tension out. If she did that here, that nice couple next door would likely ring the police. Something itched, deep inside.
Her lips twitched up in a grin and she could feel laughter bubbling up instead of the scream. She took a slight run-up and cast herself onto her bed. That was one advantage to having downsized into such a tiny place, at least she could pull stunts like that. That thought made her laugh harder and she buried her face in her pillow, muffling the sound. She really was an idiot. Thinking a move would be enough to make her happy. She knew it went far deeper than that. She would really have to do something about it this time. Something drastic: maybe quitting this awful new job would be a good start. But to do what? Did it matter? So long as it was different. She punched the mattress lightly. There she went again, hoping that she would one day find the right fire to light under herself. She rolled onto her back and took a deep breath of the too-warm air, letting the faint sounds of the city wash around her.