Afterlife: Reincarnation

25

June 17

LANE

God this box was fucking heavy. What did they have in here? Bricks?

I already had one failed attempt at lifting it from the floor to place on the shelf. I had done as the fitness instructors say, bending and lifting with my knees. But when the box easily weights ten times what I do, my knees just don't have enough strength to move it across the room. So, I had resorted to the only means of transport available to me.

Sliding it along the floor like a child with a push stroller.

Finally reaching the base of the shelf, I pushed up, breathing heavily. The thing was still just has heavy pushing as it was lifting. Tearing open the top, I frowned at the countless liter bags of saline inside. No wonder I couldn't lift the damn thing. It was literally filled with water.

I took my time lifting each individual bag, and setting it on the shelf in the store room. I wasn't even sure how many bags were in this box, but it would probably take me a fair time if I kept this pace. And since I didn't have anything else to do, I was certainly in no rush.

Evening was approaching, the sun angling in the sky to cast long, darkened shadows across the courtyard. The sporadic trees that littered our space and the fields beyond our fences waved in the gentle breeze, the first evening of cool air we had been afforded in weeks. It was a nice change from the sweltering heat we had been enduring.

We had seen a few patients today, a slight pick up from days previous. But still nothing like I had expected. Nothing like it had been when we first arrived. The air of uncertainty, of waiting for the other shoe to drop, was still heavy around us. No one acknowledged it, no one voiced it aloud, but we could all feel it.

Rob had sent the first batch of images back to NG headquarters the day before, and I had to admit that I was anxious as to the reception I would receive. This would be their first glimpse of my work and abilities for this assignment, and although Rob had been quite praising of my skills, the directors and editors back in New York had the final say. If they didn't like what I had produced so far, my future with NG may be uncertain.

I tried not to obsess or dwell on that fact. So far, everyone had been impressed with the work I had done, with everything from landscape scenes, to casual clinic shots, to the night of the birth. Erin said I had already produced an excellent range, and that I had nothing to worry about. I wanted to believe her, but I couldn't help my own apprehension. I was always the first to criticize my work, and always the last to believe its quality.

I let my idle mind wander as I continued to unpack the box at my feet, taking my time, almost methodically placing each bag on the shelf. My thoughts slid to Harry, wondering what he was doing right at this moment. It was only eight in the morning back in Seattle. He was probably getting ready for work. I pictured him in his bathroom, hair damp from a shower, a towel around his waist as he shaved.

The thought caused my stomach to flutter, and my thighs to clench.

Our little tryst via Skype nights before hadn't been far from my mind since. I had never done anything like that before, never even being one to take matters into my own hands with any regularity. I had felt unsure, nervous and timid as we started, but listening to his voice, the way it deepened, the way he coached me through how he wished to touch me, I was a writhing mess within moments.

And of course, then there was the sight of him. A girl always hopes that the boy she's started seeing will be able to please her, that he has both the skill and equipment to follow through with any dirty promises whispered. I had learned, very clearly, that Harry very much so fulfilled any requirement I may wish of him. In all honesty, I was nervous for our reunion, the thought of how much he would stretch me, of how deep he would bury into me making me weak.