She may not have it beat yet, but she would, the mother told herself. She knew she would find the solution — she just hadn’t yet. She knew she could get better, she just wasn’t better yet. As squelched were the screams of her soul, there was something she could hear. No, she couldn’t hear her soul at all. But this she could feel.
The floor was hard and shiny like a hospital and there were a few benches where people slept, while others slumbered on the floor. It was cold inside the station even though it was warm outside. The air was thin, even though the giant terminal held at least 100 people. Something felt inexplicably wrong.