...

After all the arrangements had been made Marie found herself sitting in a cafe, clutching to a cigarette as if her life depended on it - and that moment it felt like it did. Each inhalation, followed by the slow exhalation was the only rhythm that her otherwise disorderly life had at that very moment. All she knew was she was grasping to this mere whispering of normality and that it kept her from losing her mind.

One phone call was all that it took to get the wheel into motion. She still couldn't believe that she was in this predicament due to the recklessness of her neighbour, this could not be forgotten and would surely be rectified in the near future.

Mistakes like this could not be forgotten or brushed beneath a carpet to gather dust. Dust would leave clues, clues seek questions and questions would lead to not only her demise but that for all that she had worked for.

Slowly the glow of last night's champagne was being substituted by the insisting thumping of a dull headache.