The Real World Book Project: An experiment in fiction

She opened the brown wooden door to grab her prescription medication off the shelf, hesitating as she did so. Kimberly carefully studied the bottle and then conspicuously opened the container.

‘I hate poppin’ these bloody pills.’

Down the hatch they went, although it just might be a little too late for her. Once they started no matter how much medication she took, it was rare for them to stop quickly. Kimberly, looked out the window again at the painted shadow on the stained besser brick wall, it was back where it was supposed to be, not moving at all.

‘Shadows don’t move by themselves,’ she said to herself, feeling rather uneasy after suffering an optical illusion of some sort.

This positive affirmation technique they had her using was one of her mothers fruity new age ideas. One of those, speak-it-and-it-is-so deals, where the therapist tells you to breathe a lot then prescribes you drugs that could sedate a mammoth.