THE DOCTOR WHO,,. Ginjay

Ginny is counting ceiling tiles. Forty-seven so far. It's meditative, like counting respirations, except instead of saving a life she's preventing herself from fleeing into the night.

"Stop counting things," Laura says, without looking up from her menu.

"I'm not-"

Jayna's on break. She's supposed to be drinking water, checking her setlist, doing anything except walking toward the back booth where the woman in the stained white coat is currently trying to hide behind Paul.

Too late. Jayna's committed. She's walking with what she hopes is casual confidence and suspects is actually the gait of someone who hasn't eaten since lunch.

The woman sees her coming. Goes pale. Then pink. Then pale again-interesting, Jayna thinks, actual autonomic dysregulation-and stands up so fast she nearly overturns the table.

THIS IS FAN-FICTION ---- READ AND ENJOY.

Characters belong to themselves, the story however, is my delulu getting the better out of me.