Just One hour -Tale 4
Her head was swimming, a feeling of been under a big blanket; that dark oppressive warmth. Her body was aching and she took a long slow exhale. She remembered the men and the grappling trying to stop the needle going into her arm, the big crate open and waiting for its cargo. The blackness had come quickly and in her last desperate seconds the dirty tiled washroom had warped and paled in colour just the gasps and grunts of her co-captive filling her ears before the long night began. How many hours, no, more like days had she been unconscious she didn’t know. Her white out vision sharpened and the heavenly light turned dark and grey, the air smelled sweet the hums of distant traffic evident like an auditorium whisper. Then she realised she was …