Not Again By Dana Baunton

I froze. Something wasn’t right. I could feel a sharp panic rising in me as my chest grew tight, and my breath came in short, shallow gasps. People swarmed around me, going about their business as I stood, rooted to the spot, trying desperately to force my brain to process what it was seeing. My eyes flicked around haphazardly, the images piling up in a jumbled heap in my head. I looked down in confusion at the bags I was holding. But it was no use. Nothing made sense. Where was I? I couldn't move. My mouth was dry and tears started to fill my eyes. Then the automatic doors in front of me opened and the bright sun flooded in, making me squint. But as the car park before me gradually came into focus, I felt an enormous rush of relief. I remembered. I was at the supermarket. A lady bumped me as I stood there. Embarrassed, I muttered a quick apology and walked out. As I slowly made my way to the car, a tiny bud of fear settled in my heart. This wasn’t the first time.


in New Zealand

 85

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