—–The world spun in a torrent of chaotic lights and sounds. There was no sense of order, from direction to colour, and as each, nearly dead, limb lunged forth to take another step upon the ground, the earth felt as though it spun with each press of her foot, much like a massive tredmill. At this pace, she would surely never reach salvation, nor sanctuary. Oh, how sweet the embrace of death had seemed to feel, and yet, there was no peace, but instead an overwhelming oppression of ache and sadness racking her body for all it was worth. Her skin felt torn and useless, dried in the burning light of the over-looming sun, and her clothing was raggedy and makeshift; it felt as beaten as her body, yet not quite as severally as her spirit. Trudging on desperately, her bones felt as though they would snap, jabbing razor-sharp bone splinters up through her muscle, and leave her helpless, laying in a blood-soaked heap on the asphault. Fortunately, such events had not, at least yet, taken shape.

—–While her vision remained horribly distorted, her inward sense of salvation steadily leeched life back into her, and she forced herself onward through the blistering conditions. She knew in her heart, unknown to reason, that she would soon find what she had been seeking. But… what had that been? Surely it was peace, but, in what dimension of the word? Nothing seemed to make sense, and as hopeful as she was becoming, at the same time, she was becoming more lost, and on occassion, quite more often than she had remembered in her entire past, she hadn’t the faintest idea as to why she did not simply lay down and let her life dissolve. Perhaps she should, she had grown far too tired to continue, and just as she began to let her new-found hopes leave her as quickly as they had come, she saw it.
—–The mailbox.

—–Yes, it was vague, blurry, and undefined, but she was certain that it was a mailbox. She recognized the high, narrow post, with the rectangular fixture secured on top. Seeing this her eyes felt heavy, and she began to cry. Her tears had long-since dried up, leaving only a faint trace of a tear to roll down her tattered cheek, and there was a deep ache within the cavity, but she was certain that she had found what she had been so desperately seeking. It was all clear now. She was surely in town, on the street near houses. She did not know what house, and in all actuality, a reality she did not wish to admit to herself, she was not even sure it was Hannisburg, but she knew it was better than what she had come from.