Helen makes a mental note to pick up a self help book the next time she was out. This was getting ridiculous.

Watching the couple, she silently wishes she had just cleaned out her damn coffee pot.

It felt as real as the dusty air she sucked in before and rushed out after.

The ruby droplets absorbed by the pitiful tourniquet.

In one swift motion she’s out of his arms twirling about. Startled and then ecstatic, she feels lighter than air, laughing in spite of herself. Light hearted, she keeps spinning feeling the stress and pain strip away from her. She was surprised by how confident she felt. How alive.

She deftly snatches her mace and holds it in her purse for cover. She’s totally not about to be taken in by some pale silver eyed maniac.