Moonlight

Nineteen

The first sensation that Alice was aware of was that she had dreamt. She didn't know what the dream was, but dreams leave a scent behind them, you know they've been here.

Then, she was aware of a smell. It was warm, and it reminded her of home. But not home as it was now: home like it is to a child. It was a comforting and uncomplicated sensation. There were no questions to answer; there was no curiosity in that smell, no uncertainty.

Food...

It was something baking in the over, onions frying in the pan, fresh tomatoes stewing. Herbs and garlic.

Then, Alice was aware of cold air coming into her nose, carrying the smell. It stung. Breathing was painful. Her nostrils were filled with a burning sensation, and lungs expanded and contracted with difficulty.

She couldn't put all these different facts together.

Alice couldn't remember how she got home. She felt around with a hand, looking for the switch to turn on the light next to the bed, but she came across a wall. That was weird: her bed was free standing, and the only wall next to it was behind the headboard. And yet, here it was: a wall.

Her arm felt heavy. Now, she realised it was sore.

Then, there was the smell of food again.

Alice raised her hand and felt her face. The skin was puffy and tense, like the surface of a balloon. She felt the rough surface of bandages around her head.

It was dark all around. There was a noise in the next room. Somebody was there, doing something, moving about. And then, Alice realised the magnitude of that darkness: it went on forever; it was infinite. She couldn't imagine it could ever end. And yet, there was a next room, somewhere nearby.

Then, the little pains she had felt – her ribcage, her face, her arm – merged into a one. It was like small streams running along the side of the mountains, quickly being engorged by torrential rain. They filled with water and overflew. They became one river flooding the plains. Her whole body was now filled with the awareness of this pain.

There was somebody nearby. She could hear it. She could smell it.

A door opened, and the darkness was broken by the shape of a door, dimly lit from behind, by a light in some nearby space. Then a dark figure walked across the door.

Click.

The light was turned on. For a moment, the brightness of the lightbulb above her hurt her eyes; it even confused her warped senses even more. Then, the details of an unfamiliar room came into view: posters on a wall, a little study desk, a built-in wardrobe. And Athena, sitting on a chair next to her.

'Do you feel like eating something?' she asked.

Alice looked at her. She wasn't wearing her wig. Her face looked different. Then Alice noticed that she wasn't wearing make-up. She wore a jumper. It was too large for her. It was old, and it had lost its colour from too many wash cycles.

Alice wondered for a moment if this was a room at the club.

'I made you soup,' Athena said.

She offered Alice a bowl of broth. Thin noodles, pieces of carrots and chicken livers floated about. It was warm and smelled invitingly.

Alice straitened herself.

She groaned.

'Slowly, you're all bruised up,' Athena said.

She stood up. Her head felt empty and heavy at the same time. Alice realised she had been talking, but she couldn't remember. Athena was laughing.

'Why are you laughing?' Alice asked slowly.