maneuvering through

Peaches

Momo spent her first week walking the streets and familiarizing buildings around the hero agency she was hoping to practice, which pretty much explained how heavy her body felt as she forced herself to roll out of her bedding. Stretching her arms before the ceiling-to-floor glass window overlooking the city expanding below her. It wasn’t the first time she will spend months away from her home country, but the first to spend five years away from everything she knew.

Her plans were already running into action.

Yet.

There was this ever-consuming void of persistent loneliness that kept her company ever since the first morning she woke up in the foreign place. As if she was missing something immensely significant, much larger than what her plans were to offer. Wasn’t this what she wanted, was she? And that odd, hollow, echoing void in her chest was because she was beginning to miss everything. This was normal. She convinced herself, sighing every so often.

She just missed home as anyone abroad would have. Nothing more.

Oh, dear, she missed him.

She wasn’t thinking of anyone. Certainly no one.

Slumping back on the edge of her bed, Momo contemplated her day's itinerary. Remembering she had to take her medical exams. She wasn’t in her best constitution to attend to the task. Insomnia struck her for the past few days and last night was when her body takes its toll of not being able to sleep properly for days. Amid the recurring headaches and the sudden frequent trips to the toilet, she managed to organize the necessary papers and assured everything had been delivered and gathered except of course the results of her medical examination.

She felt a wave of dizziness engulf her as she lifted herself too abruptly, clutching her temples as she caught her balance before a lurching feeling threatened from her gut, ready to spill itself out, blaming it all on her worsening jet lag or pretty much the weather or whatever she could blame this sordid feeling.

Tracing the path to the bathroom, dry heaving over the bathroom sink, and staying a bit longer to suffice every urge to force everything out. Weakened by the baffling seizure, she melted to the bathroom floor hugging the toilet seat like a new pillow as another gut-launching nausea hits her again.

Remembering the menu she had yesterday, she recalled eating only a modest bite as she couldn’t take the nauseating aroma that came with the food.

‘This is bad.’ She thought.  If she had to be at her best she has to consume more than just a morsel of meat. But the thought of it made something in her gut churn and she’s back to throwing up again.

Minutes later, she managed to calm her upset stomach and prepared for the day. Placing her clothes on her bed and was ready for a warm shower.

She barely finished her sandwich and relied on a packet of bland biscuits and a whole glass of milk she engulfed to keep her alive for the next hours. It was unusual she couldn’t endure a simple serving of sandwich that she normally enjoys and looked more as if she was forcing herself to eat something solid to digest.

Walking down the upstate street of the city, Momo had to pull a mask on to avoid the various strong scents floating in the wind from each passer-by, anything beyond scentless was assaulting and sickening.

She finally flagged a cab that would send her to her appointment of the day.

Momo looked anxiously at the medical sheet the laboratory assistant laid before her. She didn’t just mishear the man.

“ Miss Yaoyo...”

The assistant narrowed his eyes over the sheet of paper, squinting at how her name was supposed to be enunciated.