She was floating. Her fat cells were floating higher; floating away. They clumped together, to smile and wave triumphantly before streaming into the other room. Towards the machine. It was almost comical to look at, sitting there so squat and ugly, like a little troll feeding on human fat. She wanted one for her own, could see how the pattern would go together, but there was no time for that now. Floating high above the bed, Abigail looped-the-loop in skinny, weightless joy and then floated out of the window. She gazed down at the odd little building as it fell away from her, and at the happy customers laughing and chatting by the doors. Then she soared into the cloudless sky. She knew that this time she would do it. She had to try, and besides, what did she have to loose?
Far ahead of her, Tia began to laugh. Finally she had taken the bait.
Putting the phone down with a sigh, Abigail went to collect Harry’s lead from its peg by the door.
“Come on, boy, there’s no work for me today. Let’s go explore and then I can get some sculptures printed up ready for the craft fair next weekend.” Outside, the sun was shining and the street was bustling warmly. Abigail soon began to relax and enjoy herself.
“Not so bad, being off on a day like today, is it?” she asked the old dog as they turned down a narrow street. The buildings were older there and cuddled together happily, rather than standing proud and stiff like the newer ones around her apartment. Harry paused regularly to sniff at corners and cracks while Abigail drank in the sights around her. She talked almost constantly as they walked; pointing out anything that she found unusual or interesting, and reassuring Harry that they had done the right thing in moving here. There would be enough work, she told him; being a supply teacher was always a bit up in the air and besides, it was only temporary while she got moving in her new direction. Harry looked at her loyally; tail wagging uncomprehendingly as she spoke.
Abigail was just explaining her plans for the hotel when she suddenly stopped with a screech. Harry crouched low, casting around for the danger. The street was practically devoid of people, and there was no obvious threat so he looked at her patiently, watching to see what she would do next.
“Harry!” she whispered. “Harry, look! It’s for sale!” She took a dreamy step towards the odd, grumpy little building across the road but then had to jump back as a bus rumbled past. Harry whined his concern and thumped his tail against the pavement where he now sat, effectively anchoring Abigail to the spot. Frightened out of her stupor by her near miss with the bus, Abigail bent down to scratch at his ears, apologising as she did so. Almost immediately, however, her attention was pulled back to the building opposite and she remained, bent over Harry, her eyes fixed on the hotel.