A faint dizziness and a vague sense of wrongness crept over her again.
At the last intersection before home, Heidi stopped, puzzled, and looked back the way she had come.
Thin mist lay over the street, clouds hung low over the roofs, the streetlamps gave off a cold, dim light.
Shadowy, wavering shapes rolled in the fog, occasionally making chaotic, dreamlike noises no human ear could make sense of.
On the surface, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
She frowned.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a line of writing—who knew who had carved it—on the wall beside her.
The crooked symbols made her temples throb.
Not far away, a broad-shouldered woman stood in a doorway.
Seeing Heidi dazed on the street, the woman offered a curious look. “Good evening. Do you need help?”
“…No,” Heidi hesitated, then answered, “I’m fine. I just felt dizzy for a moment.”
“Take care of yourself. Dizziness isn’t a small thing.” The woman smiled kindly. “If you’re not feeling well you can come in for a sit. I’ve got hot tea.”
Sensing nothing but pure kindness, Heidi returned the smile and waved her hand. “Thank you. I’m much better now.”