"Mania"

Posted August 3, 2011

Edwin lived near the ocean all his adult life and most of his childhood. Until last Thursday it had never occurred to him that the warm, salty air affected him in any way. At least not in any extraordinary way. He had lunch with Heather at the small Italian bistro they'd been meaning to check out for months. Afterwards, he began to suspect that his ailment could be caused by where he lived somehow. It didn't make sense in any direct way, it was just a feeling. He wondered why then. Why hadn't he ever had that feeling before?

In any case, he wasn't happy about this realization.

He'd never strayed far from Seattle apart from a business trip twice a year since taking on his latest client at his brother-in-law's consulting firm. He didn't like being away from home. It wasn't familiarity he craved. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy new things, new places or new people. No, it was the urges. Every time he went more than 24 hours away from the home he grew up in, they grew strong. A few days didn't hurt too badly. A week and he struggled to remain in the company of friends and colleagues, much less complete strangers.

Living with them in secrecy for well over a decade was difficult, but today he had an insight - a glimpse of a possible connection. Did Heather notice, too, he wondered? She had been his sole confidant and witness to his malady, even though they rarely, if ever, spoke of it -- at least not since that night four years ago.

Tomorrow, on his way to Jeff's condo near the office, he'd stop by Heather's before she left for school. He hated to bring it up. He always dreaded the conversations they'd had about his problem, but he really had no one else to talk to about it. Tomorrow he'd ask if she saw his hands.

Tonight, though, it was back to work. He was finishing up documentation on their latest release changes. It was definitely not the most enjoyable part of his job, but still extremely important. Important but mind-numbingly repetitive, he thought. He'd probably enjoy a drink or two to calm his nerves and to keep the urges out of his mind. It wasn't going to be easy. No, not this night...

Cruising through the light rain always drove him to his thoughts. The streaks on the windshield were like threads of consciousness driving by the unseen breeze, running towards freedom only to be stopped in their tracks by the squeaking blades of his aging Toyota.