7
There was a loud, repetitive banging. At first, I thought it was my head banging against the wall. As I pulled my head off the couch, a little on the slow side, I realised that the banging was coming from someone incessantly hitting my front door. It took a few seconds to understand that I was supposed to get up and open it. It took a further few seconds for that information to penetrate my body and for it to obey. I got up with difficulty. Every inch of my body rejected the idea of movement.
“I know you’re in there,” BANG BANG BANG. “Open the bloody door, Sarah,” Tanya, my sister, yelled. Her knocking was insistent. I opened the door to find her with a disapproving scowl on her face, and one of her kids perched on her hip. Spittle ran down her youngest son's chin. Slime-green snot ooz
