Darn, the buzzer goes, the alarm clock buzzes, who could be at the door, she clambers out of bed, bumps into the chair, what time is it, she wipes her eyes, clearing, the buzzer goes again, I’m coming she shouts, she knows the voice; frantic words are muttered outside, you have a ten o’clock and you are behind, she fumbles with the lock. The door opens, she retreats to the kitchen, the kettle is set to work, her assistant is done up to the nines, darn, she looks better than me. She opens the press, where are the pain killers, she has a brain rush, you need to order more of these, she holds up the noisy container, two or three loose tablets left. Then she thinks to herself, the sleepers, they are getting low too
, and there could be an emergency, she dismisses the thought, the time she dropped the container on the bathroom floor, and how sticky they were when she tried to pick them up. What about the anxiety stuff she thinks. Her assistant says nothing for a few minutes, she has been through it before, addict central.