Although she hadn’t meant it to be, her journey at first was a rush.
She had laid out her clothes the night before, warming up a porridge cup and feeding the plants, and herself, before leaving the house.
She slid into the car and drove to the station, where people milled about: lost, abandoned and weary.
The announcement boards were mania, heads lifted up to read them and the ever shifting times, trains and towns. She hurried through them and stuffed her ticket into the turnstile.
She lost her loose shoe and had to run back for it. She picked it up and sprinted to the train. Once on the train there was immediately no air to breathe and no room to ease her shoe back onto her foot.