Distortion Offensive. James Axler

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      This time, something was driving her back.

      The announcement that the ferry was nearing the Nanaimo port sounded over the speakers, and people were asked to return to their vehicles. Sara stayed where she was, leaning over the railing, watching the way the boat cut through the water. Her heart felt the same as they neared the port. With every mile closer to her home, she could feel the pain of the past slicing into her.

      As the dock came into view, she could hardly breathe. Her lungs burned with every quick intake of air, and her heart pounded so hard she thought it would break through her ribs. She was only three hours away from her home. Three hours away from facing something she’d been running from for so long. Was she really prepared for this? Was her mind stable enough to cope with the rush of memories she was sure to encounter?

      As the ferry prepared to moor, Sara straightened and took in a deep breath of salty ocean air. She’d be all right. It was only a house. A house she had once loved dearly. Two rambling stories on an acre lot atop a cliff looking over a small, secluded strip of white sandy beach. How many times had she stood on her bedroom balcony and gazed out over the ocean, thinking how lucky she was to live in such a glorious place? Every day.

      You will again.

      His voice touched her mind like a lover’s soft caress. She reached for that thought and held on to to it. His presence, even fleeting and surreal, gave her the strength to turn and descend the stairs to her car.