Out of the Black by Lee Doty Page B

to lose her balance and had to divert her attention to remain standing. Seconds passed and she had her leg muscles appropriately tensed and was ready to turn her mind back to opening the refrigerator. That was when she noticed that her hand had fallen back to her side and she'd have to start all over again. It was amazing she hadn't killed herself in the shower.
    She leaned in and braced her left hand on the freezer door for support and tried the refrigerator door again with her right hand. Success! She stared at the fridge's brightly lit contents with great interest.
    She was starving! She reached for the milk with her right hand, but her left arm forgot its job and collapsed, slipping down the freezer door as she fell forward. As her hand fell free, her head dented the freezer door. The shock of the impact made her forget about her legs for a second and they forgot what they were supposed to be doing too. Her knees buckled and hit the ground so hard she could swear she saw a bright flash hiding in all the pain.
    Her hands didn't automatically go out to catch her, so she rolled sideways off her knees, banging her head on the cupboard, then slumping onto her side. Her reflexes were still on holiday, so her head cracked on the floor. Her legs finally realized they were supposed to be standing and kicked out, leaving her stretched out on the floor before the open refrigerator.
    Yeah. Feeling much more normal, she thought, the brief optimism fading somewhat. You know, it really was amazing what an overdose of painkillers could do for you. She rubbed her head, looking up at the open refrigerator.
    After a few moments of mental preparation, she made her first attempt to stand. She had never looked graceful while getting to her feet. There was usually a lot of grunting, straining and rocking. But today, it was something special.
    Ten minutes later, with only a few (perhaps eight) more bruises, she stood beside the open refrigerator, clinging desperately to the counter with both hands. Sweat beaded on her face, she shivered with effort as she put all her mental energy into standing. Holding knees together, keeping her quadriceps flexed, calves tense... she'd never realized that you had to flex your butt to stand... amazing. But if her concentration lapsed, any or all of these muscles would assume it was someone else's job to make standing work. It was like herding cats through a prairie dog colony.
    You never miss your body's autopilot until it's gone, she thought, feeling like a stranger in her own body. This was more than just the medication she took- heaven knew she'd taken higher doses in the past. This was serious, this was new, this was... getting worse, she thought, clawing at the air as she fell backwards again. Panic caused every muscle to go rigid. It was as if her mind had shouted, "Help! Do something!" and every muscle had responded with maximum effort. Tense to the point of cramping, her brittle body crashed to the floor like a fallen tree.
    Unblinking eyes staring at the ceiling, she lay helpless for a while. Fear crushed in around her like a gaggle of vultures looking for a super-sized meal, and hot tears flowed from her eyes. She didn't have the ability to sob, so the emotion just simmered at the back of her neck, unreleased. The open refrigerator mocked her from above.
    She thought it ironic that she would in all likelihood die prostrate before an open refrigerator. She wondered briefly what her obituary would look like. Well, at least Elvis had it worse.
    She felt a weight above her, slowly pressing her back, out of the light. Back to somewhere below the floor, where an enfolding darkness waited. And in that darkness, she knew the dead man was still waiting. She knew because she could hear him calling her name.
    Down, into the darkness: floating, falling, and then her eyes opened to reveal a familiar white mist above her. The carpet was gone and she now lay on a bed of wild, unmowed grass, the sound of wind around