Flux

stopped singing and silence prevailed, utter silence, which was odd, even for the early morning hours. The deer he’d seen earlier were still absent.
    Feeling uneasy now, as if being watched, he looked around and quickened his step. Movement; in the trees something stirred. Peering closer, body tensed ready to flee as fast as his damaged leg would allow he saw a figure move, maybe thirty feet away from where he stood. And another. He noted five, but there may have been more, moving too quickly to be sure of their number, flitting between trees in some kind of merry dance. They made no sound. Real, and yet not real at the same time, the figures appeared to him as nothing more than shadows, grey in the early morning light.
    He moved as fast as he could, aluminium crutches all too noisy on the hard path. The figures paid him no attention, but Iain didn’t know this. Not waiting to look behind, he didn’t stop until he reached the main road and the common was well and truly behind him. He arrived at the shop panting heavily and hurting from the excursion. The man behind the counter peered up from sorting out newspapers and looked Iain up and down. He was used to drunks, addicts and other people who were still awake at six a.m. coming into his shop, and thought of Iain no differently.

    Still shaken, Iain avoided the common and instead walked the long way home. Upon arrival he was truly exhausted and saw no alternative but to retire to bed. Sleep had caught up to him, refusing to give up its headlock until he submitted.
    He dreamed bad dreams, mercifully unremembered upon waking.
    Arising from bed close to midday, the sun streamed in through open windows warming his skin. Fitful as it was, a few hours sleep had done him the world of good and he now felt ready to face the world once again. After fixing himself a sandwich of ham and cheese, he slouched on the sofa and even dared turn on the television. He breathed a sigh of relief when the news reader presented herself to him on the screen. Flicking through the channels, he found an old black and white war film about to start. Brilliant, he thought. Making himself a coffee and unwrapping the cigarettes he’d bought on his early morning excursion, Iain settled in to watch ships blow each other apart in the middle of the pacific.
    Twenty five minutes into the film, there came a knock at the door. Begrudgingly he pressed mute and got up to answer. He’d just been contemplating rolling a joint and settling in for the afternoon and wasn’t overly enamoured at the thought of unannounced company.
    Iain thought he recognised the smartly dressed woman standing on the threshold, but couldn’t recall where from.
    “Hi, I’m Eve,” a kindly smile on her red painted lips.
    Iain simply raised an eyebrow in response, an invitation for her to elaborate. The door still not fully open, he wedged his foot behind it to prevent the visitor from inviting herself in.
    “I hope you don’t mind me coming unannounced, I’m your support worker.” Her eyes moved around the room inside the door.
    “I didn’t know I had a support worker.”
    “That doesn’t surprise me; the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing half the time. Sorry,” her smile broadened, “can I come in?”
    “Oh, erm, yes, sorry.” He held the door wide open for her to enter. “Would you like a drink?”
    “Tea would be great, two sugars. Thanks.”
    Turning off the TV on his way past, he went to make the drinks, returning to find Eve already seated in the armchair, legs crossed.
    “So, how are things?” she asked before he was fully seated.
    “Not too bad,” he lied. “How about you?” being polite.
    “I’m good thank you.”
    “So why are you here then?”
    “You’ve had a traumatic experience. It’s my job to help you adjust and to make sure you’re coping. I can give you advice and any support you need; physically and mentally.”
    They talked for a while, mainly about coping with life after his accident, about returning to work, chores around the house, shopping and other everyday activities. All the time she smiled, although Iain couldn’t help but notice she carried a certain sadness within her eyes. Eventually, they got round to the subject of his mental state.
    “I have nightmares,” said Iain, keeping quiet about his other experiences.
    “Oh, what sort of nightmares, can you describe them for me?” Eve sat forward in her chair, paying close attention as he described the