Ava was running fast trying to escape the carousel of questions spinning round and round in her head. She didn’t even notice the once encroaching storm shifting direction and sliding away to the west. But when it sent out one last thunderous crack as if to say “you won’t out run me next time”,  Ava involuntarily ducked her head.

Ava had asked Chris more questions since his death than in the entire year and a half they’d been together. After all these months since his death her body remained numb while her mind raced with incessant hyperactivity.

By day her life was stalled out. Except for work, by her own design, she existed in a world of one. Every night her sleep was intermittent thanks to the tangled skiens of questions that haunted her. Haunted her especially in her dreams until she couldn’t take it anymore and burst wide awake, heart pounding. Then insomnia took over forcing Ava to lay in bed for hours thinking, always, always thinking until daylight began leaking in through her windows. Crawling out of bed, she’d stand at her bedroom window morning after morning watching the lake turn from silvery gray to blue.

Ava kept pushing herself forward. She knew she should turn back but she couldn’t, not yet. That’s how much she feared another night of insomnia. She wanted to wear herself out so badly that sleep would force itself upon her for eight long, uninterrupted hours.

Ava thought of the bungalow waiting for her back at the Apple Inn or whatever it was called. She thought of how homey the waiting bed looked with its handmade quilt. It reminded her of her grandmother. It felt like a place where sleep, the kind that refreshes, sweet sleep, would come easily to her like it always had at her grandmother’s house. She’d slept better in the narrow little bed in her grandmother’s sewing room  than any of the places she’d lived in the world during her growing up years.

She had to run just a little bit farther now, push herself a little longer. She needed an insurance policy. She had to be sure she would sleep tonight.

~

Ava’s mind went back over the day. For once she’d forced herself to stay away from the office on a Saturday. And then someone buzzed her intercom from the foyer of her condo building around 10 AM.

“Yes?” said Ava pushing the button on her wall mounted intercom in her condo.

“Special Delivery Letter for you. You Ava Land?” came the voice, “I need a signature.” Ava paused to think, Who could be sending me a letter by Special Delivery, she wondered? Why can’t I just be left alone!

“Hello? Anybody there?” came the voice of the courier sounding slightly annoyed.

“I’ll be right down,” said Ava hastely.

The envelope was from one of the big downtown law firms. Inside a letter from a lawyer, a Brent Atwood. Ava’s eyes scanned the page. Apparently he was handling the settling of Chris’s estate. He needed to talk to her. Said he’d left numerous messages on her machine none of which had been returned. Listed were three different numbers where he could be reached “anytime day or night”. “It’s important you get in touch with me today!”

~

The road started a surprising sharp descent plunging Ava downward. Her feet nearly flew out from under her. She couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. The pungent odor of muck and decay assailed her nostrils. She could make out ground fog down below which had collected in a natural bowl in the landscape. Now the fog was inching up her. First to her calves. Ava was breathing heavy now. Now to her waist. By time it reached to her clavicle and finally over her head Ava found herself engulfed in a surreal netherworld. Her running clothes were damp all the way through. Out of no where panic imploded within her wracking her body with convulsive shivering.

 She sensed the road starting to level out. She was finally able to put on the breaks and stop. Bent over at the waist, a hand on each knee, she was hyperventilating.  She couldn’t get it under control. All Ava knew is she had to get out of here.

Turning around she started running in the direction of town but her feet felt like lead. Her panic grew. If she could just get back up the hill, get high enough, she’d be able to break free of this swirling, suffocating fog. But the harder she tried the more it felt like she was running place. She felt caught, imprisoned. Her hyperventilating accelerated.  There was a roaring sound in her ears. Ava feared she was going into shock.

Suddenly a scene flashed before Ava’s eyes. What was this? Horses, running full speed? Spinning wheels, voices? The solitary night invaded by an other worldly vision? I’m losing my mind, thought Ava.

In a split second instinct took over and Ava dived for the ditch. It was a primal impulse for self-preservation. Whether imagined or real, she had to protect herself. Her right foot hit the gravel. The soft shoulder gave way. Losing her balance Ava began a magnificent fall. When she finally landed, her head hit the ground like a shot-put. As she fell unconscious Ava cried out one word, “Chris”.