Down the steps of the subway station, and suddenly, vertigo.
I was here. I’ve been here.
She stood near the gap, turning slowly, looking around, confusion widening her eyes, furrowing her brow.
What is it about this place?
She catches a glimpse of an electric blue coat, and a shock of whiteblonde hair in the crowd, and laughter, lost in the spin and swirl of the crowd.
The crowd, the push, pull crush of it.
Helen. Arthur. Tyler. Genevieve.
The names are like a suckerpunch; they leave her gasping for air, leaning over, hands on her knees. “Oh, fuck,” she breathed, shaking her head, lifting one hand to her mouth.
“Not me. Not me,” she begged, and ran for the yellow line, leaping into the gap, leaving it all behind.
Now that was disturbing, Jones. Who are these people she is mentioning?
And have you seen the movie Sucker Punch? I think you might like it.
People she killed in another timeline.
And I haven’t — I’ll check it out.
Don’t expect too much.
LOL — you think I’ll like it, but it sucks?
I’d be lying if I said I’d pegged you down… just covering my bets.
That’s me, still very mysterious.
You are a mystery, Jones.