"What`s amiss with me?" she asked the empty kitchen.
No one answered. No one always did. Except the articulation in her head.
The firm was empty, except for her and the sweltering, hot air seeping in through the seat of the cellar door. Even when she kept it closed, the heat leaked out in the class of visible mist.
Today felt like the worst so far.
Spring was in full swing, and the combining of scorching air and marital problems was too often for Lane to cope with while trying to fix a broken novel idea. She needed some time off, some form of mental holiday. Most importantly, she required to get out from this house.
A place she`d once loved was now start to look like a prison.
Knock, knock.
Lane whirled around. Her hands fell to her sides, her heart sped up.
Knock, knock.
The throbbing inside her head intensified. She ignored it to focus on the voice coming from the former position of the cellar door.
She shuffled forward as a flush of hot air hit her face. Her spirit was drumming harder now. The drumbeat in her chest seemed to absorb her entire body-shuddering through her system, shooting raw fear into her very being.
Knock, KNOCK! It got louder. The door literally shook on its hinges in face of her.
"What the_hell?" She choked on the words. Was the constant isolation and concentration pushing her once creative mind into an extreme breakdown, hounded by illusions?
The door couldn`t be quivering in face of her. She rubbed her eyes, but it didn`t work a difference. The white door was shaking. So often that she took a step back, expecting it to fly off at any second and knocking her down.
KNOCK-
The doorbell drowned out the knocking.
She jumped, nerves riding the border of insanity.
Lane`s fingertips tingled with anxiety, keeping her legs rooted to the spot. She stared at the cellar door. It stood still, as if it hadn`t been shaking wildly only a few seconds ago. As if the presence she`d somehow felt on the former face had never been there.
Just wish your sanity, it slipped into oblivion.
The doorbell echoed throughout the sign a bit time.
Lane took a shaky breath and willed herself to pass toward the front door. The person waiting outside had possibly saved her from having a heart attack.
When she gripped the address and yanked the doorway open, she found a man robed in a dark uniform standing on the doorstep.
A short, dark beard covered most of his face, but she could even hold out a friendly smile on his lips.
She met his eyes and was surprised at how they twinkled as he met her gaze.
"Hi, Ma`am. I`m from S-T-Y-D Plumbers."
Lane struggled to see her voice. "Uh, hi." She cleared her throat while staring at the logo on his shirt, a tube with arms and legs holding some kind of tool. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, but she could find him looking her up and down. What`s going on with you?
"You take a job with your hot water system?" the man asked.
"Well, I`m not sure." Lane began, realizing how stupid she must sound fumbling over her speech without even motioning him inside first. She just hadn`t expected to be scared half to death by what she thought she`d seen in the kitchen, and so be moved in this strange way by a plumber. "Sorry, please get in."
She stepped back, opening the door wide enough for him to have the invitation and insert the house. He looked round as he walked in, staring at the walls and sneaking a quick glance into the living room. "You receive a very nice place here."
Lane shut the doorway and walked past him. "Thanks. The problem`s in the basement."
"You make a basement?"
She nodded, walking over to the cellar door.
"Don`t see many of those here in Sydney."
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