Leaving the grocery store, her bags of bottles weighing down her arms, she kept repeating the same thing,”Basement apartment… Basement apartment… Basement apartment.”
Then the next day, coming out of the pharmacy, “Treehouse… Treehouse… Treehouse…”
… Getting coffee, “Salty sea air… Salty sea air… Salty sea air.”
She tried not to let it calm her, though it always did.
