I am out here studying stones, trying to learn to be less alive...

[best_is_past]

A minute ago, Claire was in the Dollhouse. The lights had been turned down for the night, and it had been even quieter than usual with all the Actives in bed. Everything was normal.

And then she stepped back into her office, turned a corner and now she's on a city street, too loud and too bright, streetlights and headlights and cars screaming past. For a minute, she can't move, can't think, just goes completely still and tense, holding her breath. It's only when her lungs start to burn that she gasps and stumbles backwards across the sidewalk until her back hits a wall.

Cold radiates from the stone through her labcoat, into her skin. The cold's enough to ground her for a second. Get a grip, Claire. Easier said than done, when your brain's programmed with a half dozen phobias all tied into keeping you away from places like this.

She takes a deep, gasping breath, wide eyes on the street, and holds it for a count of ten, lets it out on the same count... She doesn't know how she got here, or where here is. Finding out can wait until she's positive she's not going to hyperventilate.