Underneath Some Stairs And 40 Minutes To Paris Day!
You're underneath some stairs on the ferry between London and Paris. You had some seats in a passenger cabin, but the British couple sharing your row were giving you dirty looks and your girlfriend's chest grew tight again.
Yesterday - or two days ago, it's hard to figure it out - one of her panic attacks sent the two of you to an emergency room in London (free healthcare!) where your girlfriend told the nurse on duty the shortness of breath started in the middle of a fight between the two of you. So the nurse on duty asked what you had said. You didn't tell the nurse on duty.
After 4 hours of sleep in the West End hotel, you convinced your girlfriend that getting out of London and continuing on across Europe with all that eurail pass bullshit would be just the thing to keep her mind from tricking her into thinking she's about to die of a heart attack.
Her breathing grew short again at the train station, before you were even on your way to the ferry. You used a credit card to call your Mom and warn her you might be coming back sooner than you thought. Your Mom did not suggest that you leave your girlfriend on the floor of the train station where she was presently panting. She did not suggest that you throw her plane ticket and a pile of Euros at her and just book. Had she suggested that, who knows what might have happened? But she didn't suggest any such thing.
The ferry left at 11 PM, and you've spent the last five hours trying to stay still, standing or sitting, just stay still long enough to pass out. Finally, you're there underneath some stairs spread out on your spot of boat. There are forty minutes left before you step on France. You're gonna fall asleep in a minute. When you wake up in 35 minutes you'll feel so tired that you're going to cry a lot.
Happy Underneath Some Stairs And 40 Minutes To Paris Day!
